


TITANIC 2: A life about to start when Tomorrow Comes

by ColonelTravis1836



Series: TITANIC: A Grief that Can't be Spoken [2]
Category: Clive Cussler - Isaac Bell, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Titanic: Adventure Out of Time references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7061281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColonelTravis1836/pseuds/ColonelTravis1836
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Carpathia has docked. And the survivors have given their testimonies. Now each one is on their own path.<br/>Combeferre must adjust to a normal life, even with his newfound traumatic neurosis overwhelming him.<br/>Eponine makes a shocking discovery about herself, as well as Combeferre's life.<br/>Clara Musichetta and Jean Prouvaire are relieved to find one of their friends alive, but saddened by what they have been told about him.<br/>Marius and Cosette's love and patience will be tested in the time of struggle and the importance of Women's Rights.<br/>Grantaire had lost his best friend, Bahorel. He needs to find a distraction. And that is exactly what he finds in Suffragette Leader, Cornelia Enjolras.<br/>Miss Enjolras is strong, vibrant and independent. Why is she finding herself drawn to a man who she feels is everything she's fighting against?</p><p>And what of the crew of the Californian? Can they adjust to life? Or will they resort to something dark? </p><p>The survivors try to adjust after the sinking of the Titanic. But the need to adjust, is more demanding than it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. April 18th, 1912

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**As I was making notes for my cast of characters, I began to feel bad for killing off some of the Les Amis characters, and not giving them enough credit. So in this sequel, I decided I would have their family members/significant others/friends etc., come into the picture and sort of substitute their presence. I really hope everyone enjoyed my first story I had so much fun writing it. Though now that the** _**Titanic** _ **has already sunk, this will be extremely difficult for me to accomplish with historical accuracy. So if there is an error that you pick up on, please disregard it, I have no other method of creating the plot. Please R &R, follow-for-follow, and enjoy!**

**PS Jack and Deena Carson are taken directly from the computer game "TITANIC: ADVENTURE OUT OF TIME". In fact, there are and will be several nods to the game that was my favorite as a kid. Let's see if you can find them!**

**9:45 PM**

**THURSDAY, APRIL 18** **th** **, 1912**

**PIER 59, New York, NY**

_SNAP! CLICK! FLASH!_

The cameras were snapping…clicking…flashing away. Even a hundred years prior to today, the reporters had no respect…no boundaries.

Many of the survivors who stepped off of the _RMS Carpathia_ had to cover their faces from the press.

Hundreds of the greeters ran over to embrace their loved ones. Thousands were not so lucky.

Hour by hour, the survivors would walk onto the Pier, and disperse with their parties.

Those that waited longer, began to realize that their loved ones were never coming back. They had perished on the great _Titanic_.

Jean Prouvaire had his arm around Clara as they stepped off of the gangplank.

"Hey! Over here!" A reporter cried out.

"New York World!" a second one shouted. "Can you describe in your own words…"

"Why didn't the _Titanic_ carry enough lifeboats?!"

"How did you manage to survive out of hundreds of others…"

Jean and Clara had managed to rush out of the herd and out onto Little West 12th St.

"That was easier than thought…" Jean said, panting for air after the hustle.

"Probably because we're a pair of nobodies…" Clara admitted.

* * *

 

Marius Pontmercy and Cosette Fauchelevant were not so lucky.

"Miss! Miss Fauchelevant! New York Tribune! Can you describe your emotions after having lost your…?"

Before the rude reporter could finish his question, Marius shoved him out of Cosette's face.

"Can't you leave us all alone!" Marius shouted. "Isn't it damn obvious that we've been through hell?!"

Some of the reporters began to back off.

"Don't sweat it, darling!" A friendly voice approached them. "I'll handle these paper dogs!" Mrs. Margaret Brown shoved through. "Want some juice, boys?!" She called out.

The reporters began to flock over to her and began bombarding her with questions.

"There was no way in hell that they were gonna get us down!" she began. "If anything were to come out of this and be dubbed 'Unsinkable' it's gonna be me!"

Marius silently thanked her as he escorted Cosette through the crowds. Along the way, they passed by several anxious people.

The sons of Colonel John Jacob Astor IV arrived to collect his young wife Madeline…who was practically their age.

George and Lillian Allison came to take custody of his brother Hudson's son, the only survivor of the Allison family aboard the ship.

Marius and Cosette had entered one of the offices that used to check immigrants and customs in.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but we've just disembarked from the _Carpathia_ , and we've no family or friends here to collect us…is there anywhere we can go?"

The manager who was at his desk, looked up and took out his notepad. "Names?"

"Marius Pontmercy…this is Miss Cosette Fauchelevant."

"Ah…just a moment." He said. "There are some Government officials that will want to meet with you. They're right outside the front entrance."

Cosette followed Marius close behind. They were both of the same mind: What could the United States Government want with them? They've done nothing wrong at all.

Cosette wondered if her Suffragette Demonstrations in London had caused attention in the States, and she was to be taken in for questioning?

Or maybe the Kerringtons had changed their minds and come to collect Marius to force him into the arranged marriage after all?

Their questions were answered when they exited the Pier. The two of them were stopped by a Government Official.

"Are you survivors of the _Titanic_?" he asked them.

The two slowly nodded. He reached into his satchel and pulled out two envelopes.

"What are these?" Marius asked.

"Subpoenas. Ordering you to proceed to the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel and to deliver your testimonies to the Unites States Senate Inquiry to the _Royal Mail Ship Titanic_ disaster."

Marius and Cosette looked up in frustration. "Sir, we've been through enough as it is. Is it really necessary for us to…?"

"Orders are orders! We've called for a taxi already." The Man declared, in a final tone.

There was no way out of this. Cosette silently stepped into the taxi accompanied by Marius.

Up ahead of them, Jean and Clara too were flabbergasted by the subpoenas that were shoved in their hands.

* * *

 

Frank Combeferre, and Eponine and Gavroche Thenadier had shoved past the crowds, and reached the customs office. They too were given the same directions and subpoenas.

Combeferre kept a firm grip on Eponine's hand, and Eponine with Gavroche's hand. The three exited the Pier, when an American voice called out.

"Frank! Frank Combeferre!"

Combeferre turned around. His heart soared in his throat, as he was approached by two of his friends, Jack and Deena Carson.

"Oh…thank God!" Combeferre cried out as he walked over to embrace Jack. "I cannot stress enough to you how glad I am to see a familiar face!"

"We came out all the way from New Jersey as soon as we heard." Deena said, wiping away her tears. "I was a sight when I heard about James…"

She was referring to Combeferre's cabin mate, roommate from London, and long-time friend, James Enjolras, who perished in the sinking.

"There's so much to tell…but first…" Combeferre began, before walking over to the Thenadiers.

"Darling…Gavroche…These are my friends, the Carsons, Jack and his sister Deena. They've studied abroad with us back in England, and we've become very good friends for quite some time."

He brought them over to Jack and Deena. "Jack, Deena. This is…" he took a deep breath of pride when he introduced her. "Eponine…my fiancée."

Eponine's face grew bright red.

"Why, Frankie you old Fox!" Jack nudged Combeferre on the shoulder. "I knew you'd find yourself a pretty gal!" He then whispered to Eponine "You know, the last time we saw each other, he had me worried stiff!"

"Oh…did he?" Eponine asked genuinely.

"He did!" Jack answered.

"And this!" Combeferre continued, hoping to change the topic. "…is her little brother Gavroche."

After the introductions were made, Combeferre took Jack to the side. "They've lost their parents and sister. And right now, we've received this summons…we don't know…"

"Well, don't you worry one bit!" Jack said. "Let me take a look at this." He opened up the envelope and proceeded to read it carefully.

"Yep…just confirms the rumors that were floating around in New York."

"Rumors?" Eponine asked.

"Apparently, the Senate in Washington has approved for New York to host an Inquiry into the _Titanic_ sinking. They'll be holding it in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. The hearing begins tomorrow morning."

"And…given this is a subpoena…" Combeferre said "I suspect we don't have much of a choice?"

"Afraid not." Jack said grimly. "But come now! It's the Waldorf-Astoria! Swankiest hotel in New York! You'll love it there!"

"But how will we…I mean…we haven't a penny to our name!"

"Now don't you grey out an inch of your hair over it! Everything's on me!" Jack said.

The three survivors were about to protest.

"I won't hear of it! Now let's call for a taxi! The rain's starting to pour again!"

Jack whistled for a Taxi, and the five of them hopped in.

 

He continued as they rode to the hotel. "And listen, when all this is over, you three can come stay with us. We have a house in Cape May, it's very spacious! I insist!"

"But…I was arranged for a job in Boston." Combeferre persisted.

"Whereabouts?" Deena asked.

"Conkling & Lambeth U.S. Steel."

The Carsons looked at each other, then back to Combeferre. "Oh…Frank you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

Jack's expression changed. "When the rumors were confirmed about the sinking…allegations were made against Conkling and Lambeth."

"Why?" Eponine asked with growing concern.

"Apparently…according to said allegations, the steel was purchased by Harland & Wolff for the use of _Olympic_ and _Titanic_. After the sinking…a whistleblower had let it slip that the steel in question…was high in sulfur."

Combeferre's eyes widened. "That would make it unfit for use." He realized.

"And yet somehow, it was still used for the _Titanic_ , at…what White Star had allegedly said was 'a reasonable price'."

Eponine was grateful that as soon as Gavroche stepped inside the car, he fell asleep against her shoulder. She couldn't imagine his reaction or remarks about English Capitalism.

"To make a long story short…" Deena picked up where Jack left off. "To avoid further scandal…Conkling and Lambeth had to shut down."

"…which leaves me without a job." Combeferre concluded.

"In a nutshell." Jack said. "But on the bright side, it frees you of any obligation to come stay with us!" Jack said.

"Oh, it will be so great to catch up!" Deena said. "We've had such a lovely time in England, we want so badly for you to enjoy America! Won't it be great?" She asked them.

Combeferre was slightly hesitant when he said "Yeah…great."

Eponine caught on.

 

Jack had checked Frank and the Thenadier siblings into one of the more relaxed suites of the Waldorf-Astoria. And the hotel staff were aware that they would be hosting the inquiries tomorrow, so there was no objection to the impoverished look of Eponine and Gavroche. Combeferre might've gotten away with one of the cheaper rooms.

Nonetheless, they were all registered under Jack Carson, and the staff made no complications.

It was a nice suite to say the least. There was a parlor, with a lavatory to the right, and two bedrooms to the left.

When they reached their room, Deena had turned to Eponine. "Now it's too late tonight, but first thing tomorrow morning before the inquiry starts, I want to take you out and be fitted for new clothes."

"Oh…you don't have to…" Eponine was about to protest.

"Nonsense! Franklin has been a dear to us during our stay in England. He would've done the same for us! Right, Frankie?" Deena asked.

Combeferre silently nodded.

"Well…Jack and I have extra sets of nightclothes when we came over here. You all just get dressed, then head right on to bed. Got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

"Does it ever end…?" Gavroche muttered.

"Gavroche!" Eponine said, warily.

"Oh, it's no trouble. You three have had a very trying week as it is. We'll leave you to it! Have a good night. Sleep well." Jack said as he and Deena were about to leave the room.

"Thank you for your hospitality. We appreciate it." Gavroche said quickly, trying to cover up his complaint earlier.

"You are most welcome, dear." Deena said, before closing the door.

"Ep, I realized my error! Please…let's not go into it now. I'm too ruddy tired for it!"

"I wasn't going to…that was nice of you." Eponine said softly.

Gavroche yawned, picked up a set of pajamas and walked into the smaller bedroom. "Well…g'night…see you in the morning."

"Goodnight…" Combeferre and Eponine chimed together.

The two were left alone as they walked into their bedroom together.

"A week…" Combeferre repeated Jack's earlier mention.

"Hmm?" Eponine asked, her eyes getting tired.

"It's been a full week since we first saw each other…at Queenstown…"

She smiled sadly. "And here we are…a week later, engaged to each other…just a few…friends and family depleted…"

Before she could say another word, Combeferre pulled her in for a hug. "I'm sure…I just know…that they're looking down at us…and they would be so proud of us…they'll be watching over us now. They haven't completely left…"

"I know…" she sniffled against her chest. "I just wish…"

"Shh…." He said in his usual soothing voice. "Let's just get to bed now. We'll talk more in the morning."

The two of them slipped into their nightclothes.

Eponine had asked Combeferre to slide into bed first. Once he was all settled in, she climbed in to snuggle up next to him.

"Hold me?" She whispered.

"From now to forever…" he replied. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she inched back toward him.

He took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand.

The last time these two were in bed together, they had consummated their love for each other… a mere few hours before the mighty _Titanic_ collided with the iceberg, and claimed the lives of Eponine's father, mother, her sister Azelma, and Combeferre's friend Enjolras.

But now at long last, they were able to share a bed together, in the complete assurance of safety and security.

* * *

 

_When Combeferre awoke in the early morning dawn, he could not have felt happier. Sleeping next to him was the beautiful girl that he was in love with. He felt ready to start the day…_

… _until he put one foot down on the floor…and felt the ice cold water swallow his ankle._

_Combeferre reached around for his glasses, but couldn't find them anywhere. He tried to feel around for Eponine, but she was nowhere to be found._

_Then…all of a sudden, the wall in front of began to crack. He swore he could see a smokestack crash right through the wall, crumbling it into pieces._

_He finally found his glasses and put them on in time to see Feuilly Kowalski and Azelma Thenadier…glaring at him._

" _Why didn't you save us?!" Feuilly bellowed…his voice sounding unnatural._

_Azelma spoke next…but her voice sounded almost…demonizing. "Why did you leave us to die?!"_

" _I…didn't mean for anyone to die!" Combeferre pleaded._

" _There was plenty of space in the boats…Frank!" The hellish voice of James Enjolras croaked out, as he appeared out of the now rising water. "You had the chance to save us and you've failed! You have failed us all!"_

" _No…no! That's not true!" Combeferre's cries became more desperate, as the water reached the top of his bed._

" _Women and children are dead! And yet YOU LIVE!?" The three ghosts screamed in unison._

" _No! NO! NOOOOOO-_ OOOOO!"

"Frank! FRANK!" Eponine exclaimed, shaking a panicking Combeferre out of his stupor.

He awoke in cold sweat…panting for air. Acting on instinct, Eponine grabbed his glasses and put them in his hands. "Frank...darling…it's me!" she said softly.

Combeferre was still panting…he had never felt more terrified in his life. "It's…it's them!" He cried, pointing towards the wall. "They're after me!"

"Darling…" Eponine was growing with fear. "Who's after you?"

"It's them! It's Feuilly and Azelma! James…I swear…I tried my best! I TRIED TO SAVE YOU ALL!" he exclaimed, his entire body shaking.

Eponine looked over at his direction with tears in her eyes. "No, love! That's Gavroche standing over there! He's not them! See?" she sounded desperate in her attempt to soothe him. Gavroche took a step forward to see if Combeferre was alright.

"No! They're angry at me! They're going to kill me! They want me to die because they died!" Combeferre's panic was almost abnormal. Then he couldn't breathe right.

"Gavroche…go and get the Carsons!" Eponine said.

When Gavroche left, Combeferre stopped for a moment. "Wh…Where did they go?!"

"Shh…" Eponine whispered, grabbing a hold of Combeferre's face. "It was just a dream."

Combeferre stopped fidgeting around, but his face was still shaking. Eponine responded by rubbing his forehead gently. His breathing began to slow down.

"…Eponine?!" He whimpered.

"You've had a bad dream, sweetheart." Eponine said calmly.

Combeferre got a grip on his surroundings at last. Eponine continued to massage his temples until she could help to regulate his breathing.

"Are you ok, darling?" she asked him.

He slowly nodded…tears forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry…"

She pulled him in for a hug. "Nothing to be sorry for, Franklin."

Jack and Deena rushed into the room. "Is he alright?"

Eponine held tight onto Combeferre who was trembling in her embrace. "He's had a bad dream."

Gavroche came into the room. "But he was sitting up when he was shouting and panicking…he pointed in my direction."

"Everyone! Please!" Combeferre said aloud. "I'm alright!"

"No you're not!" Eponine objected. "Frank, this is the second time I've seen you like this! Last time you thought you were drowning, and you were wide awake!"

Deena spoke up. "Um…Eponine, the inquiry will start at eleven o'clock this morning, why don't we head on down to the shop and see if we can get you fitted out for something. Gavroche, you can come with us, they have the men's shop right next door. Jack, why don't you stay up here with Frank. I'll order everyone breakfast to be here when we all return!"

Eponine was very hesitant to let Combeferre go, but trusted Jack all the same. When the three were gone, Jack helped Frank out of bed and into the parlor.

 

"Frank, we've known each other for four years. Right?" he asked as the two sat down on the couch.

"Yes." Combeferre said softly.

"So then there won't be a problem in my just coming right out with what I and I think we all want to know."

Combeferre sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Go ahead…"

"Now, your fiancée, Eponine had said that you had encountered a similar…panic attack before. When was this?"

Frank closed his eyes. "It was on the 15th…maybe a few hours after we were picked up by the _Carpathia_. I lost my glasses in the sinking, and a passenger from that ship had offered me a spare. When I regained my vision, and looked out at the ocean…I don't know…I suddenly felt like…I was…I was…" he struggled to find the words.

Jack put his hand on Frank's shoulder. "Just breathe. I'm here to help you. We all are."

Combeferre smiled. He knew Jack had classes in the new studies of psychoanalysis, having taken an English Seminar sponsored by the University of Vienna none other than Sigmund Freud. It was a relief to Frank.

"Thank you…anyway…I honestly felt as if…I was out there in the ocean…I thought I was drowning…"

Jack nodded. "You said that you 'regained your vision'. So by that, you mean that you haven't been able to see clearly at all?"

Frank shook his head.

"How did you lose the glasses?"

Combeferre shifted uncomfortably. Jack rubbed his shoulder. "It would be helpful to Eponine if you just got it off of your chest, and showed signs of improvement, as soon as humanly possible."

Frank breathed in slowly. "We were in the water…Eponine…Gavroche…their sister Azelma…and Feuilly…a newfound friend. We tried to escape on one of the last lifeboats when…the forward smokestack…"

Jack could see the struggle to speak in Combeferre's face. He let him try to get his words out.

"The smokestack…toppled over, and crushed Feuilly and Azelma."

Jack lowered his head, as Frank continued. "The wave from the splash was so strong…it swept my glasses off of me. I didn't even realize the two of them were dead until after my panic attack…"

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

Frank shrugged his shoulders. "After Eponine helped me stand up when we were aboard the rescue ship, the mug I had in my hands fell off my lap, shattered against the floor, and then…all of a sudden…this flash!"

Jack got the notepad that was sitting on the coffee table. "Flash, you say?"

"Yeah…I swear…I thought I saw a…rather distorted image of Feuilly and Azelma being crushed by the funnel…it's the only thing that makes sense since we couldn't find them afterwards…"

Jack began writing. "And this recent night terror?"

"I…I thought the room was flooding…and the wall crumbled to rubble in front of me, and there they were…right next to Enjolras…they were angry with me…because…"

"…because they were dead and you are still alive?"

Combeferre nodded, tears rolling down his cheek.

 

Jack looked up from his notepad. "Now, Frank. I cannot emphasize this enough. Even if I were at the top of the list of professionals in this field, it is still in its early stages of development. In other words, we shouldn't be dependent upon my findings alone…not until I've done more research."

"But from what you've just told me, it seems to me that you're suffering a moderate case of what is simply called traumatic neurosis. It is a sensation where once you've been put in a traumatizing experience, anything that is similar to the experience can trigger the trauma you've felt. The sight of the ocean for example…you gazed at it, and it was the last visual sight you saw before the funnel collapsed. That can be considered a trigger. And the sudden unexpected sound of the mug falling and breaking…could've triggered the memory of the crashing sound of that funnel."

"And as for your nightmare…it seems to me that on top of the traumatic neurosis, you appear to be suffering from survivor's guilt…which isn't entirely unusual. I'm sure there are plenty of survivors from the shipwreck that are going through the same thing you are."

Combeferre looked up at him. "Is there some sort of cure for it?"

Jack took a deep breath and said "I wish I could tell you that, but as this is a study in earliest of developments, I don't think there is."

Combeferre grabbed the pillow and held onto it tight.

"However…" Jack continued. "We can try certain psychological procedures. I was going to send you a wire as soon as you and James arrived in New York. I've acquired my license to practice minor exercises."

Frank offered a weak smile. "Congratulations…Wish the news would've been shared under better circumstances."

Jack put down his notepad. "I know, Frank. I do too."

Jack got up from his seat and walked over to the telephone. "I'll order up some tea before the breakfast comes. How do you take yours?"

"Earl Grey." Frank said.

As Jack was dialing, Frank got up from his seat and walked over to the window. The sun was just peeking out behind the silhouette of the New York Skyline. He could see some of the skyscrapers at a better angle than one could see from the street. In his peripheral

Vision he could see a little hint of blue in the Hudson River.

"Okay…great! Thank you. Charge it to the fourth floor, number 73. Thank you." Jack hung up the phone.

"Jack?" Combeferre asked, his voice cracked. Jack hurried over to him. "Your house in Cape May…"

"I can understand your concern, friend. But rest assured we are at the very least, 5 blocks away from the shoreline. We don't have an ocean view."

Combeferre turned around with a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

 

Deena, Eponine and Gavroche returned from their errand. Deena had it arranged so that the new batch of clothes for Eponine and Gavroche would be sent up to the room while the survivors were at the Inquiry.

After breakfast, Combeferre had borrowed a black suit from Jack while Eponine and Gavroche wore the outfits they first picked from the outfit stores.

They had walked down to the lobby with Jack and Deena. Jack had approached the concierge.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me where the Senate Inqu-"

"Second door to the elevator right behind you." The concierge pointed without even looking up.

It was obvious to the five that this man has given directions to the room at least a few dozen times.

They had approached the doorman. Combeferre spoke first. "I am Franklin Combeferre, these are Eponine and Gavroche Thenadier, we are here to give testimonies for the _Titanic_?"

The doorman's expression never changed, as he opened the door.

"We'll wait out here." Jack said. "Good luck. And remember, don't be nervous."

The three survivors walked inside, and nervous was a complete understatement for them all.


	2. The Inquiry

**FRIDAY, APRIL 19** **th** **, 1912**

**U.S. Senate Inquiry to the** _**Titanic** _ **disaster**

**Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York, NY**

Frank held tight onto Eponine's hand for support, as they walked with Gavroche into the large room.

They took their seats near the back of the room, and they all looked around to see everyone begin to take their seats.

The three were approached by Jean and Clara as they next to them.

"How long do you suppose this will take?" Jean asked Frank.

They all looked at him as if he asked the most bizarre question in the entire world.

A few rows ahead of them, Marius and Cosette sat in silence. In front of them was the main table that was occupied by members of the Senate, led by U.S. Senator William Alden Smith.

To the left of them, was a large scale drawing of the _RMS Titanic_.

As more and more people began to take their seats, Senator Smith banged his gavel a couple of times, and called for attention.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Now place your right hand over the bible and repeat after me." Smith had ordered Grantaire.

Darcy Grantaire did so, as Smith continued. "I, Darcy Grantaire…"

"I, Darcy Grantaire…"

"Do Solemnly Swear…"

"Do Solemnly Swear…"

"To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God."

"To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God." Grantaire repeated, before taking his seat.

He too had managed to find a presentable suit before the inquiry, but he kept a firm grip of his bribe check.

The Prosecutor had stood up and approached the stand.

"You are Darcy Grantaire, of Queenstown, Ireland?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What is your address?"

"105B Doylestown St."

"Can you tell us your position of work while aboard the _Titanic_?"

"I was a trimmer…in Boiler Room Six. I came aboard with my friend Bahorel O'Malley. He was a fireman alongside me."

"And you embarked at Southampton, correct?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Grantaire, as a trimmer, am I correct in assuming that you had no idea of the speed the ship was travelling at?"

Grantaire paused on that thought before answering "Well, I've noticed the gauge increasing its number slowly."

"Which gauge?"

"I can't remember…it was all sort of a haze."

"Try to remember. Did this gauge have anything to do with speed?"

Grantaire took a deep breath. "I think it measured out how much steam was routed into the Engine Room."

"And…you said you noticed it increasing slowly."

"Yes."

"By that logic, you're saying that the ship was increasing speed."

Combeferre rolled his eyes. _"Is this prosecutor for real?"_ he thought to himself.

"Yes…I'm not good with numbers…but on the night of April 14th, we had acquired a speed of 22 ½ up to 23 knots."

"Mr. Grantaire, since you were below decks the majority of the voyage, were you made aware at all about the icebergs in the area?"

"…no, sir. I mean…there were rumors floating about, but none of us had thought it was an iceberg that damaged the ship until we were made aware of it up on deck."

"And…the moment before impact, can you describe what was going on at your post?"

Grantaire shifted in his chair. "Mr. O'Malley and I were working the boilers as usual. We had to work twice as hard due to the increase in speed. I can't remember exactly when…but at some point before midnight I'd like to say, the red light came on, and an emergency bell rang out."

"What is this red light used for?"

"It's the orders from the bridge. When it turns red, it means we're supposed to stop. It came completely unexpected…our foreman ordered us to shut the dampers and to shift our gears, so that the engines would slow down as quickly as possible."

"And…how long after that would you say before the water started pouring in?"

"Possibly…less than a minute? We were all a bit spooked by the hull's deforming…"

The Prosecutor stopped pacing back and forth and looked directly at Grantaire. "Deforming? Can you elaborate on that?"

Grantaire looked at the drawing of the _Titanic_.

"About half a minute after we shut down our dampers, we heard a strange vibration…"

"A vibration?"

"Yes…it felt strange to me because we were on the lowest deck of the entire ship…it felt as if some sharp object was scraping against the bottom of the boat."

Some people looked at each other in confusion, before the Prosecutor continued. "Mr. Grantaire, can you walk over to the map, and point out, to the best of your knowledge, where exactly the hull 'deformed' as you said?"

Grantaire got up and walked to the drawing. He traced his line from the first funnel.

Combeferre had to close his eyes shut.

Grantaire continued tracing down the hull up until he was at the red paint. "It's a rough guess, but I'd say around here."

"And what exactly did you mean by 'deforming'?"

"When we felt the vibration, Bahorel and I approached the hull, to see if we could make out the strange noise. And then…the hull just…popped."

"Popped?"

"Well, I used to work in Engineering back in Ireland. Popping metal can occur by a drastic change in temperature…a thermal expansion, so to speak. Anyway, the hull had seemed to repeat that exact type of movement, before a few rivets popped out of the hull, and then the water gushed in."

"So, what you're saying is, instead of the iceberg ripping the hull open like a tin of line, it brushed against the hull enough to buckle a few plates?"

"In a matter of speaking…yes."

A few members in the audience began to murmur to each other. Marius leaned over to Cosette and whispered "That must've been what Mr. Andrews was talking about with the steel being weak…"

"Now, Mr. Grantaire, what happened after you made your escape from the flooding Boiler Room?"

"My friends and I had made our way out onto Scotland Road, and we were stopped by a group of Steerage passengers…"

And then his eyes fell on Gavroche, the little boy that he remembers seeing in the group he and Bahorel led up to the boats. Gavroche made a silent nod, as like a 'thank you' for getting him and his family to safety.

"And we made it to the Boat Deck. I became separated from Bahorel in the crowd…I never saw him again."

"Can you recall which lifeboat you had stepped into?"

Grantaire looked back at the drawing. "I can't remember the name, but I know it was this one right here!" he said pointing at Lifeboat #1.

"How many more people were in your lifeboat?"

Grantaire scoffed as he returned to his seat. "Not enough!"

Some more murmuring was heard.

"Can you answer the question directly?" Smith insisted.

"There were twelve of us, and we could've taken forty!" Grantaire said, his voice growing slightly agitated.

"You seem to be quite irritable when talking about the capacity in question."

"Forgive me, sir. But I am irritable, because we could've saved at least twenty or thirty people, but us crewmembers were bribed to do nothing!"

Some gasps were heard amongst the murmurs.

"You say you were bribed to do nothing?"

Grantaire savored this moment, as he stood up, pulled out the check in his hand, and showed it to the whole room. "Five pounds made out by a Mister…" he then read the check loud and clear. "Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon!"

The gasps and murmurs grew louder, and heads turned in the direction of Sir Cosmo and Lady Duff Gordon. The former slinked back in his chair.

The Prosecutor's expression grew dark. "Mr. Grantaire…you mean to tell me, that Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon had paid you and other crewmembers, to do nothing while hundreds of people drowned in the water?!"

"To do nothing, and to say nothing, to be correct, sir!"

The audience began to chatter loudly now, showing signs of outrage at the Duff Gordons. Senator Smith had to bang his gavel a few times.

The Prosecutor turned to Smith. "I have no further questions, Senator."

"Mr. Darcy Grantaire, you are dismissed from the Inquiry. Call the next witness."

Grantaire got up from his seat, and walked out of the room.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Now, Mr. Pontmercy, some of the earlier witnesses testified to have seen the ship break in half shortly after the lights went out. By this time, you were still on the ship, correct?" The Prosecutor asked Marius.

"Yes. I was on the Second Class Boat Deck, hanging onto the railing."

"And how steep would you say the ship's angle was at the time the lights went out?"

Marius looked dumbfounded at the Prosecutor. "Do I look like the type of person that had a protractor on hand at the time?!"

Cosette couldn't help her silent giggle. Eponine had to cover her mouth from smiling.

"Mr. Pontmercy, just answer the question as best you can." Senator Smith demanded.

"How can I answer that question, sir? I was on deck, amidst a crowd of panic stricken passengers and crew, hanging on for dear life, and this man wants the mathematics of it!"

Some more murmurs followed after that. The Prosecutor's face stiffened. "Alright, let's just skip that question shall we?" he said with gritted teeth. "When the lights did flicker and go out, did you feel the sensation of the ship breaking apart?"

"Of course. It was the last thing I remembered before being knocked out."

"Knocked out?"

"Yes. Knocked out. It's a feeling when you lose unconsciousness." Marius said sarcastically.

"I am fully aware of what being 'knocked out' means, Mr. Pontmercy. Just answer the question straightly!" Smith insisted.

Marius sighed. "Yes, the ship fell backwards violently enough as if it broke apart."

The Prosecutor looked at his notes. "But Mr. Pontmercy, you mentioned that this fall knocked you unconscious. How could you remember if the ship could have possibly broken in two?"

Marius rolled his eyes. "Because the ship falling backwards is what knocked me out in the first place. Would you like me to talk slower or should I go find you a translator, who is fluent in the language of stupidity!" he exclaimed.

Smith smashed his gavel hard. "Mr. Pontmercy! I will not have this behavior tolerated much longer."

"Senator Smith…" Marius began "I myself am not entirely sure I can tolerate these roundabout questions much longer! This prosecutor is having us talking in circles. You say you want evidence, we are _giving_ the evidence, and your prosecutor is twisting everything I say!"

"That is because…" The prosecutor bellowed. "It is utterly impossible for a ship _that_ large to have broken in two at the angle she was reportedly at by the time the lights went out! Your statement is hearsay!"

Some of the people in the rows looked at him in disbelief.

A reporter who was sitting next to Combeferre leaned over and said "Boy will _this_ committee be the laughing stock of the U.S. of A.!"

"If what you say about my statement is hearsay…" Marius said calmly. "Then we'd have to come to an agreement that anything further I say can only be taken in as hearsay, and that my presence itself is downright hearsay. Unless you have any more questions as to how I escaped death, I'm afraid I have nothing further to say."

The Prosecutor made no objections. Marius was excused from the stand, and told Cosette he will wait outside for her.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"I sat idly in Collapsible A, as the ship went down…" Prouvaire said as he was at the stand. "When the lights went out, I could see a black outline of the ship against the stars…Personally, I'm afraid I cannot confirm nor deny Mr. Pontmercy's statement earlier about the ship breaking, but it seemed to me that at the very least, it looked as if the outline was bending slightly."

"Bending?"

"Yes. The stern of the ship seemed to settle back into the water. But if the ship wasn't bending, then by that logic, the front of the ship should've risen back up out of the water. But it didn't."

Smith interrupted the questioning. "Is Mr. Jack Thayer here yet?"

Jack Thayer stood up. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry if I'm late."

"Never mind that. You say you have had a friend draw out your account of the ship's final moments?"

"Yes. I have it here."

"May I see it?"

Thayer brought the parchment up to the bench, and handed it to Smith.

Smith took a thorough examination of the sketch. It was six pictures in a sequence from the collision to the final plunge.

"Senator Travis…" he called for the Prosecutor. "It seems to me that there the evidence seems more and more likely, to call in the favor of the ship having broken in two before the final plunge."

"Permission to approach the bench?" Travis asked.

Smith sighed and called him over. Travis walked over and whispered to Smith. "Senator…there are delegates of the White Star Line here, besides the Chairman himself."

"I'm well aware of who is in the room, Travis. Get to your point."

"Sir, if we admit that the ship broke in two, they will retaliate against us for accusing them of using bad steel."

"How exactly is that our problem?" Smith asked. "We are here to find the truth."

Travis looked Smith straight in the eye. "It seems to me that it doesn't matter to the Senate who gets affected the most by the truth."

Smith in turn glared back at Travis. "And it seems to me, young Travis, that you would certainly have quite a lot to lose if White Star is held accountable…on the other hand, you'd have a lot to gain in the event that White Star is compensated."

Travis's heart sank as Smith continued. "You think we don't know about your investment with White Star's stock prices? You seem desperate enough to guard their reputation for that sake alone."

"Sir…this is not about…"

"Unless you want to have your name featured in the front pages, I suggest you either retract your assumptions about the break-up theory, or else, pass the torch along to someone who has nothing to gain from this Inquiry."

Travis grew red with anger. "Senator Dickinson!" he called for his runner-up. "Take over for me. I have matters to attend to elsewhere."

And amongst chatter, sneers and murmurs, Senator Travis left the room.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize. It seems clear to me that we are getting nowhere with the theory as to whether or not the ship broke apart as she made her final plunge. For the time being, unless we are able to find further evidence either in support or against the claim, it will be recorded that once the lights were out, it would have been impossible to tell what exactly happened to the _Titanic_. Senator Dickinson will carry on with the questions."

The reporter next to Combeferre was scribbling away in his notepad. "What a story this'll make!"

"Now, Mr. Prouvaire…let's move on past when the ship finally submerged. You mentioned you were in Collapsible A, correct?"

"Yes, sir. The boat was washed off when the ship lurched forward. There was some water in it throughout the night."

"Did anyone else try to climb inside the boat?"

Jean thought back to his two comrades, Joly Rivera and Julien Lesgles. "Yes, sir. My friends Julien and Joly. They came swimming towards us…I noticed they were very weak when they came. I helped Julien up, but…I couldn't…I couldn't find the strength to pull Joly up…we were all overcome with exhaustion…"

"Exhaustion from treading water? Were they not good swimmers?" Dickinson asked.

"Oh no sir. The opposite…they were the best swimmers in all of Paris. But they were exhausted from the cold…"

"The cold of the Atlantic?"

"Yes…Many of the people in the water had lifebelts on. Hardly any of them drowned…they died because they have frozen to death."

A few gasps were heard in the crowd.

"So…it was the cold that had exerted your friends?"

"Yes…I've lost the strength to help Joly up out of the water…and I feared that he was dead already. He hasn't responded to my voice…when I knew for sure, I let him go…and he slipped beneath the sea…"

Clara had to wipe the tears away in her eyes.

"And your friend Julien?"

"I turned around to him…and he wasn't moving…He was just staring at me…staring into space…I could not tell if he was breathing, but only assumed that he had also frozen to death…"

Clara broke down in tears. Cosette was nearby, so she walked over and helped her up and out of the room. She spent the next few minutes consoling her.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"It was something I've noticed about two days into our voyage." Combeferre was telling Dickinson about the lifeboats.

"Mr. Lawrence Beesly and myself were remarking that even though the ship carried the minimum amount of lifeboats required by the British Board of Trade, it was still not enough."

"Well, according to the Board of Trade, the ship had actually exceeded the requirement by adding four additional collapsibles."

"I'm well aware of that. If they hadn't, I'm not so sure I would be here."

"Mr. Combeferre, how were you able to secure a place on Collapsible B?"

"Some of my friends and I volunteered to help out the officers to release them. I figured then we would've had a chance."

"Now, given what you have observed, if the ship was adequately filled with the sufficient amount of lifeboats, would you feel that more lives could've been saved?"

Combeferre sighed and said "Well, for those that made it out onto the deck, possibly."

"Can you elaborate that?"

"From what one of my friends from Third Class had told me…" Frank said, motioning to Gavroche. "A lot of the Third Class Passengers were kept below decks. They were barred behind gates, prevented access to the boats."

Smith had to bang his gavel to stop the murmurs and gasps.

"As far as I know, the good majority of Third Class are still stuck inside those gates…at the bottom of the Atlantic."

Dickinson wiped his forehead. He couldn't believe the stories that were being told about that fateful night.

"And besides that fact…" Combeferre continued. "A lot of the passengers refused to board the lifeboats simply because they did not take the danger seriously enough."

"Keeping that in mind…" Dickinson asked. "if the crew had _made_ the passengers aware of the situation, then it would've also caused utter chaos and confusion, and in most cases, wives would refuse to be separated from their husbands. If that were the case, do you still maintain that less people would've survived?"

Combeferre took off his glasses and wiped them clean. "Mister Senator…" he began. "I've witnessed enough chaos and confusion in one night than I'd care to see for the rest of my life. And suffice to say, the people that were the most panic-stricken, came from all walks of life. First Class, Third and Second; English, American, Irish, all different races, and religions."

"The richest millionaire in the world, and the poorest beggar from the slums would have been of one mind. Every Man for Himself. We were thrown into a world where the Dog eats the Dog; where they kill for the bones in the street."

"If people were made aware of the sinking, they would do whatever they could so that they could survive. They would trample over each other if it meant a spot in the lifeboats. Some people bribed the officers. Others just downright took spots that were meant for women and children…" he said, glaring at Joseph Bruce Ismay, who was sitting in the front row.

"So to answer your question to the best of my knowledge, I don't believe anything could've been done differently to save the lives of those lost. But the evidence gathered so far, can only indicate a few simple facts:

"The _Titanic_ should not have been travelling so fast in the dangers of icebergs. She should have been more disciplined with lifeboat drills. She should've carried enough lifeboats to meet the capacity of the ship itself, and _not_ the rules of her owners. And the ice warnings should not have gone unheeded."

Smith slammed his gavel hard. "Mr. Combeferre, it is not for the survivors to decide what should and what should not have happened. Do you have any further questions, Senator?"

"No sir." Dickinson said, with a look of sympathy towards Combeferre.

"You are dismissed from the inquiry then."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

When Frank stepped outside of the inquiry, he saw Jack, Deena and Gavroche sitting in the lobby waiting for him.

"Where's Eponine?" he asked.

"She had to go to the women's lavatory. She began to feel queasy when you took the stand."

Combeferre looked at the time. "That was at least ten minutes ago. Is she alright?!"

The others shrugged their shoulders.

Clara stood up. "Excuse me, Frank? Would you like me to go in and see if she's ill?"

"Yes please!" Frank insisted. Clara hustled over to the restroom.

"Do you suppose it was something she ate at breakfast?" Jack had asked Deena.

"I'm not sure." Deena replied. "As soon as we went shopping, she rushed to the restrooms in the exact same manner."

"Maybe this is all still a shock. It is her first day on dry land after an awful ordeal…" Combeferre suggested.

Clara came out of the bathroom in a hurried state. "Mr. Combeferre? It's Eponine…she's…" she called for Frank to come to her so their talk could be hushed. "She's hunched over the toilet bowl…she keeps expelling from her mouth."

Combeferre grew worried. "Deena! Go in and keep her company. Jack, do you know of any nearby hospitals?"

Clara spoke up. "There's a small clinic just two blocks down from here."

"Alright, go over there and see if they have an ambulance!"

"Is she going to be alright?!" Gavroche asked.

"I'm sure it's just an ailment. Gavroche why don't you go with Jack and take a walk outside? I think some fresh air after that stuffy inquiry will do you a lot of good!"

Gavroche went with Jack while Clara rushed over to the small hospital.

Clara had rushed into the lobby of the emergency room. "Excuse me, I need to have an ambulance rushed over to the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel! A young woman has taken ill."

"Can I get your name please?" The receptionist asked.

"Clara Musichetta."

A nearby doctor had heard her give her name. "Miss Musichetta?"

"Yes! We need an ambulance!"

"Of course! Of course! Why don't you just take a seat here, and we'll send for help."

"But…"

"I know, but don't worry! We'll have her taken back here in no time!"

Clara had taken a seat in the waiting room, unsure of why she was being detained.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

After what seemed like an eternity, Deena was finally able to help Eponine out of the bathroom and into the ambulance car that was parked outside.

Combeferre held tight onto Eponine as they rode down to the hospital.

"I'm sorry…darling…"

"Don't be, love!" Combeferre said. "I'm here."

She looked up at him and smiled. "That's all I need to know."

They had met Clara in the lobby, and were quickly escorted to a patient room. The doctor who had pulled Clara aside earlier had asked if he may speak with her in private.

Combeferre and Deena had to wait outside the door, while the doctors looked Eponine over.

"What on Earth could it be?" Combeferre asked. "Aside from the emotional trauma, she seemed fine these past few days."

"I don't know, Frank. All of that emotional upset can cause physical imbalance. One time, Jack was so stressed out from work, he literally got sick at the end of the week."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Now, Miss Musichetta, I'm afraid I'll have to be blunt about this, seeing that you have your friends to attend to, I'm sure."

"Yes." Clara said. "What is the matter?"

"Well, let me ask you this. Do you know a man by that goes by the name of Maurice Bossuet?"

Clara looked at the doctor and slowly shook her head. "No…why?"

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Jean Prouvaire hustled over to Combeferre and Deena. "I came over as soon as I heard. How is she?"

The Doctor opened the door coming out of Eponine's room.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Marius and Cosette stormed out of the Waldorf-Astoria hotel, filled with contempt for White Star Line, for the Senate, and for everything else responsible for killing their families.

"It's as if they didn't _want_ us to let go of the pain we already felt…" Marius said.

"I just want to forget about everything that has happened…" Cosette replied.

Marius took her by the hand and asked her "Everything?"

Cosette looked at him.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Well, Miss Musichetta, the reason I ask, is because we have a patient in here that seems to have gone under shock, and as a result, suffers from amnesia. We asked him if he could write the first two names he could remember, and 'Maurice Bossuet' is the first name he wrote down. Now I'm not entirely sure if that is his real name, but the reason I called you over, is because somehow, after all he went through, he kept repeating your name in mumbles over and over again. He kept mumbling 'Clara' in his sleep."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"She's doing fine now, she would like to see a Frank?" The Doctor said.

"I'm Frank." Combeferre stood up, following the Doctor.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Cosette…somehow…I feel as if our families sacrificed themselves for our sakes…I know we've only known each other for over a week…but I remember…when you told me on the Boat Deck…that I've done things to you emotionally, that no other man has done before…and to tell you the truth, you've done the same for me…"

"Say what you want to say, Marius."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Clara had followed the doctor into Bossuet's room, and almost keeled over by the sight of him.

"Julien…?" she gasped.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Cosette…I wish I could ask you under better circumstances…but…" Marius got down on one knee. "Will you marry me?"

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Eponine…darling…are you alright?" Combeferre asked, stroking Eponine's forehead with a wet wash cloth.

"Frank…they've told me I'm pregnant." Eponine whispered.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Yes!" Cosette exclaimed.


	3. April 19th, 1912

**FRIDAY, APRIL 19** **th** **, 1912**

**New York, NY**

Clara Musichetta could not believe her eyes. She was staring at the sleeping body of Julien Lesgles…and he wouldn't even know.

The doctor flipped through his clipboard. "He was picked up by the _Carpathia_ , having gone through a catatonic shock from the cold…which could explain the earlier reports of him appearing to have frozen to death. And the severe shock of the cold seems to be the result of his memory loss.

"The doctor aboard the _Carpathia_ tried to do speech exercises with him, and when they asked for his name, he said he couldn't remember. So to avoid the frustration, they asked him to write down the first name that popped into his head, and it could be any name he could think of. Naturally, he chose Maurice Bossuet."

"The _Carpathia_ escorted him off the ship and brought him straight here. He kept muttering the words Musichetta, but he was suffering from delirium. That's why when I heard your name, I thought I'd put two and two together. Now just because he keeps saying your name, that does not guarantee that he will remember you. The amnesia could still prevent him from remembering _why_ he's mumbling your name in his sleep."

"Is it temporary?" Clara asked.

"Yes, but there is no knowing for how long."

There was a knock on the door. Clara reached for the door. It was Prouvaire. She walked out so she can speak with him outside.

"They got Eponine's test results." Prouvaire said. "Clara? Is something the matter?"

At first…she didn't want to tell him, fearing that he would just take Julien away from her.

But then again…she realized one heart breaking fact.

_He was never mine to lose…why regret what cannot be?_

Clara opened the door and showed Prouvaire.

He stood in utter shock at the sight in front of him.

**1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

"Franklin? Love? Did you hear what I said?" Eponine asked, while holding tight onto Combeferre's hand.

"I…I…I did…" Frank stuttered.

"Are you alright? You don't appear to take this well…" she asked him.

Frank looked at her with tears in his eyes, and held her face and kissed her softly. "I'm sorry, my darling…I couldn't be happier…I've always wanted to have a child or two…and I'm even happier it's with you."

Eponine blushed, but her concern never left. "But you don't seem happy…"

Frank sighed, and held her hands tight. "Darling…what if I make a terrible father?"

"Frank…"

"No, what if I never recover from this? What if I resort to alcohol or attempt to kill myself a…?"

Combeferre stopped himself short. But he said enough.

"What did you say, Franklin?" Eponine pushed.

Just then, the door knocked. It was Jack and Gavroche.

"Deena told us what happened. May I offer my congratulations?" Jack said, smiling.

Gavroche went over to hug his sister. "Ep, are you alright?"

Eponine was still mixed with emotions from her talk with Frank. They both knew there was more to be discussed later. "I'm fine…"

Jack could see in her eyes that she was not.

**111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

"Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" Cosette exclaimed before pulling Marius up from his knee to kiss him.

Their kiss was interrupted by the grumbling of Mrs. Margaret Brown as she huffed out of the Waldorf-Astoria.

"…the no good dirty rotten whipper snappers! I oughta hang them all up in the finest pine trees of all of Colorado!"

"Mrs. Brown?" Marius called out.

"Oh bless my Cousin Lenny! It's my favorite young lovers!" Mrs. Brown's mood changed quickly.

Marius and Cosette had blushed. "Is everything alright?"

"Ah hell! Just gave them my testimony. You know, these damn politics had talked more in circles than the racehorses at the Kentucky Derby!"

"Marius just asked me to marry him!" Cosette blurted out.

Mrs. Brown's smile could not have been wider. "Well dip me in a bowl of sweet sugar! You two have just made my day!" she said as she embraced the two in a tight hug.

"When and where are you two planning on getting hitched?!" she asked.

Marius and Cosette were dumbstruck by the question.

"Wait!" Cosette said before reaching into her small purse and pulling out the will she was given by her father, Jonathon "Valjean" Fauchelevant, who had perished in the sinking.

"He…he has that estate in Virginia! He's left that to me!"

"Well, congratulations to the two of you!" Mrs. Brown smiled.

"What will you do, Mrs. Brown?" Marius asked.

"Well, I'll be sticking around here for quite some time! They named me chairman of the Survivor's Committee, after all the help I've given to those less fortunate in this here disaster."

"Oh…can we help?" Cosette asked.

"Why of course, darlin'!" Mrs. Brown said cheerfully. The three of them then walked over to a nearby café for lunch.

**1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

"Maurice…?" The doctor whispered, trying to get Julien to wake up. "Maurice? You have a couple of visitors." He said softly.

Julien slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room. He took a look at Jean and Clara.

Silence filled the room before Julien spoke up "Who are you two?"

Clara's heart broke. In a way, she felt worse than she would've if he really was dead. To have him here but not like himself…was almost the same to her.

Jean on the other hand, was content to know that at least one of his comrades were still alive.

"Maurice…" The doctor said. "This is Clara. Clara Musichetta. She's studying to become a nurse!"

Julien looked at her intently. "Whoa…" he said. "You're pretty!" he blurted out.

Clara blushed as the doctor spoke "Now, Maurice, that's impertinent to say when you're first introduced to someone."

"It's alright, Doctor…I'm flattered." She responded.

"And this is Jean Prouvaire." The doctor motioned to Jean.

"Hello, Jean." Julien said.

Jean tried to fight back tears, and wanted so badly to say Julien's real name…but sighed and said "Hello, Maurice."

He then turned to the Doctor and Clara. "He and Joly made arrangements for a flat near Harvard. Given our circumstances, I'm sure our landlord won't object to us moving there."

Clara looked at them. "You mean…I can come to?"

"Of course, Clara." Jean said. "We've created a bond on the…" Jean stopped himself from repeating the _Titanic_ 's name. "Well…we're family." Clara smiled.

"You hear that, Maurice? These two nice people are going to take you in under their wing. Would you like that?"

Maurice looked out the window. "Well…it would be good to be out of this hospital…and these two look nice enough…"

Clara and Jean exhaled sighs of relief.

**1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

Frank, the Thenadiers, and the Carsons took a taxi that crossed over the Brooklyn Bridge. Frank had to keep his eyes shut while hovering over the Hudson River.

Once they were safely in New Jersey, they had booked a train to take them down to Cape May, where they will be living.

Deena had arranged for the shipment of clothes recently purchased to be delivered to the Carson Residence.

Everyone had settled down in the dining car.

"Another five hours, and we will be home again." Jack had said.

Eponine and Frank sat in silence for the first time in a while, which got everyone's attention.

"I say, Eponine…" Jack asked. "The club car is one car ahead of us. What do you say we head over there and see if we can find something special for you? You are eating for two now!" he joked.

Frank held her shoulder. "Are you sure she should be walking?"

"Relax, darling…" Eponine said. "I'm only expecting. I'm still quite strong." She winked at him.

Frank lowered his shoulders. "Just like the school days. I remember." He smiled too, and let her and Jack walk to the club car.

**1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

Jack had escorted Eponine over to the bar, and called for the bartender. "I'll have a whiskey and soda. The young lady here will have a Ginger Ale."

Eponine rolled her eyes. "You're no fun!"

"Not in your condition." Jack whispered.

When the two got their drinks, Jack dropped his nonchalant act. "What happened back there with you and Frank?"

Eponine held tight onto her drink. "The Devil if I know. He made a comment earlier that stuck with me…"

"What about?"

"Jack…you've lived with him back in England for four years…has he ever…done or tried to do anything…to hurt himself?"

Jack took a swig of his drink and turned to face her.

"Franklin Combeferre is a fine young man. He's smart. He's witty when he wants to be. A perfect gentleman. He always put others before himself. He always had a philosophy to every situation…he was our Guide.

"But there were times…makes me shake just to think of it…but there were times when sometimes, he was always so hell bent on seeing to others, he never thought to put himself first when he needed to.

"You know that he left Ireland owing to his father's death and his mother's decaying health?" He asked. Eponine nodded. "Well…he himself was not doing so well in the mind because of it.

"He had a brother named Andrew. Never spoke much about him, simply because he was a downright greedy bastard."

"I never knew…even when we went to school together…I never knew he had a brother."

"With good reason. Even after their father's death, he tried to make Frank's life a living hell. He would always push Frank around, have him do things for Andrew…So you can see it's in his nature to always want to be outreaching and things like that. He's been mentally trained for it…unethically.

"When their mother died…Andrew took everything in the will, including that which belonged to Frank...and he shoved off."

"What?!" Eponine asked outraged.

"It wasn't fair to Frank and we all knew it. But bless his soul, he brushed it off like it was nothing…then one day, I was walking near the Thames River…and... I saw him sitting on the railing of the bridge…if I was a second slower…"

"Don't." Eponine said.

"He told me he couldn't take it anymore…he couldn't fight with the demons…"

"What demons…?" Eponine asked.

"The voices in his head…" Jack said. "They kept telling him that he wasn't good enough. That Andrew deserved to take everything and leave him in the dust…and that he was not worthy of you."

Eponine's eyes widened. She knew that he loved her from the start, but hearing that he almost killed himself over her was something unexpected.

"Earlier that day, he kept talking about you…and he was wondering what would've happened if he ever returned to Ireland. He wondered if you would welcome him back, or if you would've found yourself someone to love. That thought alone, must've pushed him over the edge."

Eponine wiped the tears running down her cheeks.

"Eponine dear, my point is…what Andrew did to him…damaged him. When I was taking my semester, I asked his permission to help him out. It was a compromise. He would be my patient for my studies, and I would help him out of his stupor.

"And when Deena and I left England last year, he seemed to do so well. We left him in the care of our good friend, James Enjolras. And he seemed to get on so well. We thought he would recover…

"And then this happened." Jack said, referring to the _Titanic_. "When I questioned him this morning, I knew exactly what he was talking about. The demons have returned, and this time, they've formed into the spirits of those who perished in the sinking. And now that he's cracked…he's gone back into his old habits of not feeling like he's good enough for anything…"

Eponine had to take a napkin from the bar and wipe her face. "And that's why he thinks he wouldn't make a good father?"

Jack took her hand in his. "Eponine, when I look at him…the way he looks at you…the way he used to go on about you…I see him happy. I wish I knew what it was, but there is something about you that brings positivity in his life."

"Even though I'm broken myself?" Eponine scoffed.

"Well, I understand that. And I do sympathize so much for you." Jack said.

"Jack, you've known and worked with him…can he…be saved?"

"That all depends…do you love him?"

"Of course…I feel I always have. Nothing could ever stop that."

"Do you see a future with him? Do you want him to be there to raise your child with you?"

"It's his child too…I would want him there nonetheless."

"All the same…he loves you. I can tell. The thing that matters now, is we have to find a way to remove anything and everything negative in his life. Andrew lives in California, and that is nowhere _near_ New Jersey. But we won't let him anywhere near Frank if it's the last thing we do. But Frank needs us…he needs you…now more than ever."

Eponine nodded in sadness. "I wasn't going to go anywhere. I promised him that night. I promised that no matter what would happen, I would be there for him, as he would me."

Jack rubs her arm. "That in itself, is a tremendous amount of relief for me." He smiled. "Now, let's go back and join the others for dinner."

The two returned to the Dining Car. Eponine sat down to find Combeferre with his head leaning against the window, gazing at the scenery.

"Frank?" she said softly. He turned his head to look at her. There was sadness in his eyes.

"I assume then, that you know?" he asked her.

Eponine nodded. She grabbed his hand tight and said "I don't care what's happened in the past. I don't care how you see yourself. What's important, is what kind of a man you really are; deep down and to everyone around you. You are the most genuine loving person I could ever know, and I feel like I am in heaven to be yours…to carry your child."

Frank slowly smiled, as she continued to talk. "That being said, I believe you will be a great father…the best the New World has ever seen. All that matters, is you have to believe it too. I know you can." She said.

Combeferre responded by kissing her hand. "I will try…for all of our sakes."

Eponine returned the smile. "There was a smile you had…it made my heart melt…I'd give anything to have it come back."

"Um, excuse me, Eponine but some of us are trying to eat here!" Gavroche said, as he was nibbling onto his bread.

The four others laughed.

**Four Hours Later…**

**Cape May, New Jersey**

The group had disembarked their train at Atlantic City, and called for a taxi to take them all the way down to Cape May.

Another hour later, they had finally arrived. They stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver.

They made their way across the parking lot, near the Washington Street Mall and made it to Jack's car, a blue 1911 Great Smith Touring Car.

Gavroche was awestruck. "Blimey…" he said "This ain't nothing like Donegal."

Jack tussled the boy's hair. "You'll love it here. During the summer, it's like paradise."

"Aye…" Eponine said. "But in the winter, won't it be colder in the winter?"

Deena looked at her. "You never used to get snow back in Ireland, did you?"

"Rarely…maybe a few days a year at most." Eponine said.

"Well, I used to get quite a bit back in England." Combeferre perked up. "I think you and Gavroche will really enjoy yourselves."

Jack picked up the bags. "Well, let's get home and we'll show you the house!"

The four piled into the car while Jack got behind the wheel.

"Tis only our second day in the New World, and already we're travelling in cars." Gavroche remarked.

Eponine smiled as she was helped into the backseat followed by Frank. He wrapped his arm around her tight as he kissed her cheek.

Something's come over him recently back on the train…he seemed like his old lovable self…and Eponine loved it.

**1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

They had arrived on McCullum Ave. between Queens and Jefferson. It wasn't far from the beach, but the ocean was out of sight, just like the Carsons had promised.

The house was beautiful, to say the least. It was Victorian style, three stories, white with red shutters. The flowers in the window sill bloomed to pure perfection.

"Oh, Deena. These flowers…they take my breath away, they do!" Eponine said as she got out of the car and walked over to the windows.

"You like them? I planted them myself!" Deena said with pride.

"Can you show me how?" Eponine asked.

"Why of course!" Deena said happily. "Oh I feel we are going to be such good friends!"

The two of them walked into the house, followed by Gavroche.

Combeferre helped Jack with the bags. "Jack, I cannot thank you enough for all that you've done for us." He said.

"It really isn't any trouble." Jack said.

"No, you don't understand…you've done more than anyone would ever even consider to do…you took in myself, and two complete strangers…all of us survivors of such a tragedy…how can I ever repay you?"

"Don't even think about it! Our home is your home!" Jack smiled. He was about halfway to the door when he stopped in his tracks.

"Actually, there is one thing you can do for me."

"Name it." Frank said.

"Promise me that you'll do whatever it takes…to return to being the man that Eponine loves. Promise me you'll let us help you in your hour of need?"

Combeferre's smile faded slightly, but never went away. "When you spoke with Eponine…I had a realization…seems like quite a far-fetched miracle, but nevertheless, I found it relieving.

"I realized that I need to do whatever it takes to recover from this neurosis. I have a child along the way, and I'm engaged to be married."

Jack gave a sly grin when he asked "In that order?"

Combeferre rolled his eyes. "My point is…I need to find a way to put my fears past me, for her sake. I used to find life meaningless, until she came back in my life. Now that she's here to stay…I feel like I have a chance to get my life back!"

Jack smiled as he went to embrace his friend. "I'm so proud of you Frank. James would be too."

Frank nodded. "He probably would be throwing a protest at Conkling & Lambeth for their poor quality in steel…" he chuckled.

"Come on." Jack said. "We'll give you a tour of the place, then we shall call it a day." He led Frank into the front door.

**1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

Deena had their house maid unpack the new clothes for Eponine. Gavroche tended to his own bedroom, which felt exhilarating for him, since he always used to share with Eponine and Azelma.

"Now Eponine," Deena began cautiously. "If you are not willing to talk about it, just say so and I will drop it." Eponine looked at her. "But I have to know! How did you ever come across Frank while the lot of you were sailing?"

"Oh…" Eponine sighed with relief. "Well…he was standing on the deck, and I was with…my family…" she swallowed…thinking of Azelma and her parents. "We were on the tender from Queenstown. Something nagged me in the back of my mind…beckoned me to look in a specific spot on the ship…and there he was."

Deena offered for her to sit on the bed next to her. "At first I couldn't believe my eyes. Then it really was him. And of course…my little brother, was recruited by his friends to set the two of us up to meet…to speak again. And I tell you, Deena Carson, my heart did somersaults when I was speaking with him face to face again."

"You never did tell me what you found so appealing about him back in Ireland when he schooled with you." Deena prodded.

Eponine couldn't help her blush. "Oh, he wasn't like the other boys at all…he was so quiet…so kind. The other boys would either tease or scold him, especially since he wore glasses. But…he never let that get him. He always just stayed in his shell…

"That's why I began to notice him. He was something out of the ordinary, he was. It was entirely new to me. I liked it.

"Then one day…I walked over to him, asked him if I could have my lunch with him in the school yard. He smiled at me and said he'd be honored…I don't know how…but right then and there, I knew there was something about him that tickled me silly on the inside."

Deena smiled. "I'm loving this story already!"

Eponine continued. "Well, anyway, after we became good friends, I brought him over to introduce him to my family. I never considered him to be like a gentleman caller or the like; just a good school friend. And they really hit it off with each other.

"Now that I think back on it…his departure back to England may have bothered me more than I let on. Maybe I didn't want him to leave…I knew he had to but…the idea of never seeing him again…I had a wall built up inside me so I'd never let this feeling take over me, you know?"

"Why?" Deena asked.

"Well, as I said, he's made me feel a way that I've never felt with any other boy. Oh there were other boys that were just as handsome, but none of them were Franklin Combeferre.

"And when I saw him again on…" she took a deep breath. "On the _Titanic_ …it is as if my heart was being led to break once again."

"Because he was originally going to Boston?"

"Aye. And then I really truly would've lost him for good…but then eventually, we both had our feelings bared. And then…when we kissed…I knew right then and there, that he would be the one.

"And then…the 14th came around…and after we told each other what we wanted, I became his."

Deena smiled as she held Eponine's hand. "Well, I'm certainly glad he chose you, dear. You're everything to him."

"He's everything to me." Eponine said in response. There was a pause. "At least, he is now…"

Deena grabbed her arm. "They're very proud of you, my dear. Even in spirit… they know you made the choice that makes you happy."

Eponine smile weakly. "I just wish they could be here…I can't say that enough."

"I know. But you mustn't dwell on them forever, Eponine. Aside from your own new adventure…" Deena said, patting Eponine's stomach. "You're getting to marry the love of your life!"

Eponine grew bright red. "Oh, lord help me! What will we do about a wedding?" she asked. She saw the look in Deena's face, and immediately said "No. You and Jack have already done more than…"

"Not another word! Dinner will be ready soon. We'll talk more about this tomorrow morning! Now, I'll leave you to freshen up!" she said excitedly before leaving Eponine alone in the room.

She had walked up to her mirror, picked up the comb on her dresser, and began brushing her long black wavy hair, to keep it back in place. There was a knock on the door. "Come in." she said.

It was Frank.

"You should be resting, my dear." He said, holding his arms around her waist.

"When the baby is born I'll be driven out of my mind from all of this rest, let alone talk of rest!"

Combeferre laughed. "Oh, gosh, Eponine…I can't believe it…here we are, in the safety and comfort of friends, on our first day in the New World, for the rest of our lives."

Eponine wrapped her arms around Combeferre's neck. "I love you, Frank."

Frank kissed her gently on the lips. "I love you too."

She nuzzled her nose into his chest. "Darling? May I ask a small favor of you?" he asked her.

"Anything, dear." She answered.

He went over to sit at the edge of the bed. "This morning…when I had my night terror…you did something that brought me back into the real world."

Eponine tried to follow him. "I just…I need to find out…would you mind doing it again?" he asked.

"What was it?" she asked, curiously.

He responded by taking her hands in his, then placing them on opposite sides of his temples. Combeferre closed his eyes.

"Now what?" She whispered softly. "Shall I rub in circles?"

"No…no. Just…leave them there for a minute." He said.

She complied. Soon she began to feel her fingertips pulsating. And he felt the pulsating to his temples.

A minute later, he opened his eyes, as if waking up from a deep sleep.

"Better?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "Better." He kissed her once more. "For the record, you shall make a fine mother."

She couldn't help her giggle. "And you will make a fine young father."

There was a brief moment of hesitation, but Frank nodded in agreement.

As they walked downstairs to the Dining Room, he spoke up. "In the summer…I would like us all to take a day at the seaside."

Eponine was taken back by his blunt delivery, as he continued. "I've given this some thought on the train ride over, and it is something I've got to face at some point.

"What you did with your hands to my forehead, helped me realize that as long as I had you nearby, I would be able to face my fears." He smiled.

She wrapped her arm around his. "Alright." She giggled.

The Thenadiers, the Carsons, and Frank all got settled into the Dining Room.

Jack led them into saying Grace.

"Dear lord, bless this food we are about to receive, accept our thanks for the company we share, and bless their lives, so that they may strive from these hardships they have been through. Amen."

Combeferre clenched his upraised fists tightly as he finished his prayer. The housemaid and the kitchen staff arrived with their meals.

**A/N: How's everyone liking the fanfic? Please read and review! I'd love to get your feedback. I'll try and update this when I can but I'm swamped with finals right now!**


	4. April 20th--July 4th, 1912

**SATURDAY, APRIL 20** **th** **, 1912**

**Central Park, New York, NY**

Grantaire sat on a bench in the park overlooking the lake. He had a sketchpad in hand, and his cap sitting next to him, filled with a few coins.

With nowhere to go, nowhere to work, and no one to call a friend, Grantaire had isolated himself to spend the night under one of the park's bridges, and used some of his severance pay to purchase himself a sketchpad. He felt he could release some of his feelings by drawing.

A few spectators couldn't help observe his skills, and had asked if he could do requests. He drew them landscapes that were actually better than he would let on. And so they paid him for his work. Any other artist probably would've refused to part with their masterpieces. But Grantaire considered himself no artist. He was an engineer who had been dealt a rotten blow.

But today, something inside him caused him to draw the water he saw in front of him. And then his hand started moving on its own…he wasn't aware of what he was drawing until he saw it on the paper in his lap.

He had drawn a near perfect illustration of the _Titanic_.

He mused on the moment, and decided to continue on this sketch. He found sadness within himself he never knew existed, as he drew the Statue of Liberty near the drawing of the ship.

When he was done, he held it up to examine it better.

"Is _that_ some sort of a sick joke to you?!" a woman cried out.

He turned around to see a well-dressed woman huff over to where he was sitting. She had blonde hair, kept in one of those oversized hats that drove Grantaire insane. She had a "Votes for Women" sash over her shoulder, and a tri-color badge. " _Suffragette._ " He thought to himself.

"Beg your pardon, ma'am?" he asked, trying not to sound cynical to the woman.

"I will have you know I lost my brother aboard that ship! Do you find it amusing to have her arriving in New York in a cartoon?!"

"Sorry, ma'am. I wasn't trying to be amusing…"

"Oh, honestly! You men are so insensitive! And yet you are left to run the world!"

Grantaire did not familiarize himself back in Ireland when it came to women. So he held nothing back as he stood up to face her.

"Now wait just a God-Damned minute, lady!" he barked.

She stopped in her tracks, her face livid.

"I will have you know that I too was on the ship! I lost my best friend. I was there to see it all. I've seen her as she went down with hundreds of women and children still aboard! I wanted to go back, I did. I wanted to take my Lifeboat and save many more lives! I would've even sacrificed my own life if it meant saving an innocent life! But I knew I had a purpose…I was bribed to do nothing. I had to expose the bastard for what he was!"

Her expression dropped, as he continued. "I was only drawing this to help me-self with the pain I still feel. I may be Irish, but it isn't in my blood to make light out of a calamity this size! The day I embrace that is the day I take me own life!"

The lady held her chest in sympathy. "In spite of that being no way to talk to a lady, I respect your honesty, and acknowledge your pain…it isn't in my character to admit fault, but I am afraid I must apologize."

Grantaire slightly bowed. "The sympathy is much appreciated, milady. And I'm sorry for my apparent rudeness. But that was something I needed to get off my chest."

After the two nodded, the lady looked at the sketch again. "Are you an artist? You're quite good at capturing details."

"Thanks, milady. But sadly I am not an artist. I was a crew member on the ship. I worked in the Boiler Rooms. I am an Engineer by trade…or at least I was…I'm afraid I'll have to admit I may not know how to get back on my feet."

The lady looked him over. For an Irish Engineer down on his luck, he certainly cleaned up nice…even after spending the night after the inquiry under a bridge.

She asked if she could see the rest of his drawings, to which he showed to her.

"My…my…I have to admit these are very good. And you can draw anything on the spot? It's not even in front of you?" She asked him.

"Nope. I try to clear my head, and picture what I like best to draw out."

She looked over the drawings once more. She thought long and hard, before speaking up. "I have a proposition."

He listened with intent. "If I hire you to sketch out ideas for our advertisement posters, we will give you ten percent of our funds for the cause."

"And what's your cause, exactly?"

She pointed to her sash and said "Women's Rights of course!"

Grantaire sighed quietly, before realizing that he did need the money. And he didn't have anything to lose, being in a new country and all.

"Ma'am, You've got yourself a deal!"

"Excellent!" the lady exclaimed, before reaching into her purse and producing a small little card.

"Cornelia Enjolras. We are based in the Café Musain on East 132nd Street between 5th and Park! We'll let you know what sort of posters we'd like to have displayed on our picket signs! Meet me there tonight at 6 o'clock!"

Grantaire gathered his sketchpad, took out the coins and put them in his pocket, and saluted Cornelia for her generosity.

"Glad to be of service, Mrs. Enjolras."

She smiled and said " _Miss_ Enjolras."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

**WEDNESDAY, MAY 1** **st** **, 1912**

**Cape May, NJ**

"Eponine? Are you alright in there?" Deena asked, as she was sitting in the bedroom waiting for Eponine to step out of the bathroom.

"I…I don't know…" Eponine's voice from the bathroom stuttered.

"You're…you're not getting cold feet are you?" Deena asked, with growing concern.

The door opened…Eponine was standing in a white Commodore Perry Estate Wedding Dress that complimented her hourglass figure.

"Oh. My. God!" Deena gasped. "Sweetie, you look so stunning! After the baby is born, you are definitely going to do some modeling!"

"Deena…I'm scared…" Eponine whispered.

Deena nodded. "I can understand why you're feeling this way. But remember who you fell in love with. You knew for a long time that he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Right?"

"But that's just it…" Eponine responded. "It is what I wanted…but I never thought in my life that this would actually happen…I always believed it to be nothing more than a fantasy. Even back in Ireland, I felt he was out of my reach. Even when we met again…I tried to believe I would never see him again when we reached New York…I prepared myself to face that heartbreak. And now, here I am, only a few weeks later, about to marry him…what is happening to me, Deena?"

Deena took Eponine's trembling hands. "Eponine, sweetheart, are you a God-Loving person?"

Eponine nodded.

"Then you have to get it in your mind, that obviously He wanted the two of you together. He felt that you belonged to him, just as he belongs to you. If you weren't sure that you wanted him, would you have shared your love that night?"

Eponine rubbed her belly. "I suppose not…I did put almost get a steward in trouble for helping me with arranging things." She blushed, thinking about her friend Montparnasse, who went down with the ship.

"Well, obviously, God kept Franklin alive because He wanted you two together, in Heaven or in Hell. Franklin loves you. You love him. I know deep down inside…you want this moment to happen. But it's completely normal to feel this nervous."

Eponine slowly walked over to the bed and picked up her bouquet of red roses. "Alright…let's do this!"

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"I thought you said this was going to be a small gathering?" Frank said, as he stood at the altar next to Jack at the Our Lady the Sea Church on Washington St.

"You're in unfamiliar territory, Frankie. Deena and I have a lot of friends here in New Jersey. If I got married in England, you would've invited all of your friends to my wedding. I know you too well!"

Combeferre shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose your right…" he then paused. "Do you think she'll go through with it?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "We're not going through this again! She loves you. She's come back in your life and she hasn't left it again. Of course she's going to go through with it."

"And how are you so certain of this?" Combeferre asked, staring at Jack.

"Because she's here already." Jack said, pointing down the aisle.

Combeferre looked in Jack's direction, and sure enough, there she was.

The people in the pews stood up and looked over at the stunning image that walked down the aisle. They never met her before, but they were awestruck by her beauty.

Combeferre was absolutely speechless. He knew he was right to love her, but now it feels like his reasons were renewed.

She finally reached the altar, and blushed as she looked up at Frank's expression.

"Wow…" he whispered. She giggled, as the Pastor of the church, Reverend Myriel walked up to the two of them.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God to witness the holy union between Franklin Combeferre, and Eponine Thenadier."

Myriel turned first to Frank. "Do you, Franklin take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to for richer, for poorer, to love and to honor, to cherish and protect her, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Frank's heart was racing as he looked directly in Eponine's eyes and said "I do."

Eponine tried her best to fight back tears. "Do you, Eponine…" Myriel turned to face her. "…take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, to hold and to keep, to love and to submit, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Eponine failed and let the tears roll down. "I do." Frank beamed at her expression.

"The rings?" Myriel asked. Gavroche stepped forward, holding the pillow that contained the same two wedding rings that Eponine's deceased parents gave to Combeferre the night of the sinking. They both agreed that it was the best way to honor their memory.

Eponine took his ring, and slipped it on Combeferre's left ring finger.

Combeferre then took her ring and slipped it on her left ring finger.

"Now, if there is anyone here, who has good reason why these two should not be together in wedlock, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace!"

Combeferre then suddenly looked anxious, as he scanned the entire room, searching for a familiar face. Eponine tightened her grip on his hand. "Don't worry, love. He's not here."

He knew that she knew about Andrew. In any case, he was in California the last he heard. As far as he knew, Frank went down with the _Titanic_.

"Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. Franklin, you may now kiss the bride."

Combeferre lifted the veil off of Eponine's face, and held her tight as he kissed her tenderly. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and returning the kiss.

The room exploded in applause and cheers.

Frank and Eponine Combeferre were happily walking down the aisle, amidst the sounds of the church choir.

" _Ring out the bells upon this day of days!_

_May all the angels of the Lord above,_

_In jubilation sing their songs of praise,_

_And crown this blessed time with peace and love!"_

Frank helped Eponine into the white Renault town carriage motorcar, the same model-type that went down with the ship. But none of them knew that, nor would they probably want to, I am sure.

The driver started up the engine, and the happy newlyweds waved to their well-wishers and greeters as they drove off into the distance.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

In New York City, Brujon and Babet were thrown out of a bar and landed on their backs.

The bar owner stormed outside and pointed at them.

"We don't serve assholes like you!"

"What in hell did we do to you?!" Brujon exclaimed.

"It's what you didn't do! You and your bastard Captain Lord. The lot of you left my brother and hundreds of others to fucking drown! Your names are all over town! You better skip it or I can't promise you the same fate at the next bar!"

The bar owner stormed back inside.

Brujon and Babet were met by Claquesous. "You too?" he asked them.

"Christ Almighty! We did nothing wrong, and yet we're fugitives!" Babet said.

Claquesous spoke next. "It's not our fault we got laid off the _Californian_. We had nothing to do with the decision making."

"I swear, if I hear one more word about that damned ship the _Titanic_ , or if I see another survivor that blames us for what happened, they'll wish they were never born!" Brujon muttered, with his fists clenched.

"It's not like we haven't suffered a loss either! Weren't we just as outraged over John's death?!"

The three nodded. "Montparnasse would've forgiven us…he was one of us. He would've spoken on our behalf."

Brujon punched his fist looking for a fight. "So he wouldn't necessarily object to us avenging him then? Whaddya say, boys? The first survivors we see, will be our next targets?"

Claquesous produced a newspaper clipping from his article. "It may be sooner than you think."

He showed it to Brujon and Babet.

**LOVE FOUND IN "TITANIC" SURVIVORS**

Story by Daisy Cashmore, Jersey Journal

Last Week saw the marriage of two survivors of the Greatest Tragedy the World has ever known. Franklin Combeferre of England, and Eponine Thenadier of Ireland, both met on the _Titanic_ after apparently being schoolmates together. The two survived the shipwreck, and had gotten married last week in Cape May. Franklin was travelling in Second Class with a companion, James Enjolras, who had perished in the sinking. Eponine was travelling Third Class with her family, both parents, a sister and brother. Only she and the brother survived. In spite of tragic losses on both sides, the two young survivors have found love, safety and security in each other.

"Boys? It seems as though we may have found our targets." Brujon said, grinning.

"Now remember boys, we need to be discreet when we deal with them. I suggest we lay low when we get there, and then, when we feel the time is right, we'll strike!" Claquesous insisted.

"Oh how I've waited for this moment!" Babet said with excitement. "This'll teach them to ruin our lives!"

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**TWO MONTHS LATER**

**MONDAY, JUNE 17** **th** **, 1912**

**Cambridge, Massachusetts**

Jean and Clara had moved into a small apartment with Julien/Maurice. It has been two months and his memory still has not returned.

The two of them agreed not to press on the matter, for fear of how he would react with _how_ he lost his memory in the first place.

Clara had applied to Medical School at Harvard, and Jean had signed on to participate in the school newspaper in order to help with his writing skills.

They all sat outside on the grass in a park nearby. Julien kept to himself while he was reading a book.

"Thank God he remembers how to read at least…" Clara whispered to Jean. "I'm sure we would've had the time of our lives to try and get him to recite the Alphabet." She giggled.

Prouvaire smiled in response. "I can only imagine Joly going absolutely berserk over the state Julien is in…"

Up until now, Clara had thought she had succeeded in moving on from Joly's death.

But then she reflected on when she first met him.

He was a rather small and meek fellow, a hypochondriac, who remained convinced that he was struck with seasickness. She came in to make the beds, found him in a stupor, and immediately took command to get him to his senses.

So she enlisted Julien's help into getting Joly up and out of bed and onto the deck to take in the sea air, to combat the seasickness.

But the plan did not involve Julien falling in love with Clara, nor her eventually falling in love with him. During the days she got to know him, she had learned that he was a caring friend to all who knew him. He never considered himself to be lucky, and would always blame himself should anything go wrong.

He was a breath of fresh air to Clara, and she didn't know how to act upon her own feelings. She was always bound by rules and would consider it bad form to pursue a relationship with a passenger.

So she sought out Joly's help; she wanted to become a nurse on the mainland, hopefully someplace close by, so she could see more of Julien.

And then the iceberg struck and changed everything.

The last time she saw Joly alive, and Julien in his formal state, they were on the Boat Deck, waving goodbye to her as she sat in one of the last lifeboats.

Julien kissed her goodbye. And after that, each and every single day before she saw him again in the hospital under a new name, she gently stroked her own lips, savoring the kiss as best as she could.

And now, the thought of poor Joly Rivera, the hypochondriac who was afraid of everything…the idea of him suffering the worst of it by succumbing to hypothermia and dying beneath the sea, brought Clara to her breaking point.

Her chest began to tighten, and this time she just let the tears pour out. Prouvaire rubbed her back.

Julien/Maurice heard her cry and hurried over to her.

"Miss Clara, are you alright?" he asked genuinely.

She shook her head and said "No…I'm not!"

Prouvaire pulled her in for a hug. "She just needs a moment, Maurice."

Julien/Maurice nodded and began to walk over to his spot when Clara called out "Wait! Come back! Please…" she begged.

Julien knelt down beside her. Clara pulled away from Prouvaire to face Julien. "It may seem impertinent but…could _you_ hold me? Please?!" she pleaded, her eyes swollen.

He slowly nodded, uncertain of what she meant. Prouvaire stretched out his arms.

"Just open your arms like this, Maurice."

When he did so, Clara shifted so that she would lean against his chest. "Now wrap your arms around her. Not too tight, she'll need to breathe."

Julien/Maurice did exactly as he was shown. When his hands were holding her tight, he looked at Prouvaire. "What do I do now?"

"Just stay like that for a while…until she's feeling better. And…rub her back softly."

He nodded, still unsure, as he stroked her back while she sobbed into his chest.

"Am I doing this right?" he asked.

"Yes, Maurice. You're doing fine!" Prouvaire said. "I will be right back, you two. I wanna see if they're still selling those candy apples!"

Jean left the two alone to their hug.

"Miss Clara?" Maurice asked.

Her tears stopped but she was still broken. "Yes?" her voice cracked.

"May I ask who this man named Julien is?"

Her heart dropped. She wanted so badly to take his face in her hands and kiss him and tell him that it was _he_. But as far as he knew, Julien Lesgles is dead. And as he is holding her, completely unaware of his identity, it's as if he really is dead.

"I ask because…forgive me for being personal, but I hear you call out for him in the middle of the night…it is something troubling you, and it makes me feel bad."

Clara took out one hand and held his cheek tenderly. "Oh, Maurice…I'm sorry…I wish you could understand…"

"That's okay, Miss Clara. You seem to really love this Julien guy. He must've been quite the gentleman."

Clara smiled to herself. "He _still_ is…" she whispers. Then she realizes what she said.

"I understand…I guess I've been a fool…" Julien/Maurice said.

Clara could feel the knot in her throat as she pulled away.

"I couldn't help it when I said I thought you were pretty, Miss Clara. I mean it. I think you're very pretty…I came along with you and Mister Prouvaire because I wanted to get to know you more…even though I don't know anything about myself. I know you're a good and loving person. This Julien guy, whoever he is, he's really lucky to have you in his life."

Clara wanted so badly to break down again, but today she had run out of tears. She wiped her cheeks as she silently wished that she could tell him that he's still there.

"I'll bet he loves you a lot, Miss Clara. If you love him back, just come right out and tell him so. Don't wait for life to pass you by. It's too short. Just tell him, or kiss him. Do something, you know?"

Clara's heart was racing. Without thinking, without realizing the consequences of no turning back, she grabbed his face and kissed him like she's never kissed anyone before.

At first Maurice was shocked by the sudden kiss, but then out of nowhere he found himself embracing her even tighter. In that sweet passionate moment, things began to flood back to him. He refused to let her break away, hoping that more memories would come back to him.

When they broke the kiss, Julien could see the tears in her eyes, as their foreheads touched.

"Don't cry, my love…I'm here." Julien whispered.

Clara looked straight into his eyes. "…Julien Lesgles?" her voice cracked.

Julien smiled and nodded. Clara excitedly pulled him back in for another kiss.

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Jean Prouvaire had stopped at the ice cream cart that was parked on the sidewalk. He was about to order three one-scoop vanilla cones, when she heard sniffling to his right. He turned to see a young woman dressed in mourning.

When he got a good look at her face, his heart nearly dropped.

"Mary?" he asked as he approached her.

She looked up and when she saw his face, she broke down as she went over to embrace him.

"Oh Mon Dieu!" she sobbed. "I didn't think any of you would've made it!"

Jean held her tight. "Only Julien and I survived…I cannot tell you how sorry I am about Henri…" he was referring to Mary DuFontaine's boyfriend, Henri Courfeyrac.

Mary did not let go. "When I heard about Henri and Joly…I thought I was lost out of reality…like nothing made sense in the world…"

She finally pulled away from the hug. "But wait, you said Julien survived? I thought he was listed among the dead?"

"He's suffering from amnesia most likely shock from the cold. He went under a different name. I'm looking after him with a fellow survivor, Clara Musichetta."

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When they returned, they found Clara and Julien in their embrace.

"Getting rather personal, aren't we?" Jean asked, still believing that Julien was 'Maurice'.

Julien looked at him and smiled. "Well, Jehan Prouvaire, you were the most romantic out of all of us…"

Jean stopped in his tracks. Only he, Julien, Joly and Henri knew his nickname was 'Jehan'. He didn't even tell Clara.

"My god…Julien? Do you…have your memory back?!"

"It's still somewhat of a blur to me…the last thing I remember, you helped me up into a lifeboat and…" he stopped short.

He saw the broken woman in front of him and knew her too well. "Mary DuFontaine!" he gasped.

Mary went to embrace the two men. "I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to see familiar faces…I never felt more alone after losing Henri…"

Julien's heart dropped. "Henri Courfeyrac? He…He didn't make it?!"

Prouvaire shook his head. "What…what about Joly! Where is he?! Please tell me he's alive!" Julien begged.

"I'm sorry…Julien…I tried to save him…I tried!" Prouvaire wept, covering his mouth and turning away.

Julien looked down, as the last image in his memory flashed in his mind. "Oh god…" he sank to his knees. He was quickly comforted by the other three.

To say it was a bittersweet reunion would be an understatement.

**MONDAY, JULY 1** **st** **, 1912**

**Washington D.C., VA**

Marius and Cosette had gotten married via a Justice of the Peace. And the will her father left her was looked over by an attorney, and everything checked out. Cosette and Marius inherited her father's fortune and moved into his house in Washington D.C.

Today, Marius was returning home from his hunt for a new job. He had applied to small businesses because since he lived with his Grandfather, Lord Gillenormand, he himself was unemployed, and had no experience to speak of.

When he returned home, he found his new wife sitting in the Parlor. She was reading the newspaper.

"Any luck?" Cosette had asked him.

"I applied to a few places that were hiring. One was a small bookstore, another was the market on Main St., and another was a position for a bank teller."

Cosette looked disappointed. "Sounds rather low-end if you ask me."

"Well, my dear…" Marius said as he walked over to kiss his wife as he sat down on the couch. "We have to keep in mind, I've been wrapped around my Grandfather's finger the majority of my life. I literally have no experience to speak of."

"Well, haven't you ever thought about what you wanted to do or to be in school?" Cosette asked.

Marius shrugged his shoulders. "My Grandfather had a private tutor; I wouldn't know anything that involved a career. All I was taught were Mathematics, Literature, History, and of course, the importance of my family's legacy." Marius rolled his eyes.

Cosette put her newspaper down. She nonchalantly placed the pillow over the headlines. "What if you applied to schools around here? Took courses in something that caught your interest?"

"Oh there's no mistake my dear. I intend to do just that. But I'd rather work at something small first, bring some of my money to the table, before I can think about going to school."

Cosette looked at him. "But, Marius, you do know that…"

Marius took her hands and kissed them. "Darling, I know. Your Father left us everything he has in his name. And I cannot thank him enough for saving my life and for giving me you." She smiled as he continued. "But family inheritance or not, I do need to make a living myself. I'm your husband now, and I sincerely want to prove myself worthy of you, and be able to feel like I can provide for you. If I relied only on your father's fortune…I feel as if I wouldn't be entitled to it."

"My father obviously trusted you when he was alive, Marius." Cosette said as she held his cheek. "If he didn't, he would not have made such an effort to save you…"

"I know. And as I have said, I am grateful for it. But all I want is for a way to repay him…even if only in memory."

Marius lowered his head. Cosette could see in his eyes that a part of him still felt guilty about being alive when hundreds of others went into the sea.

She tried to reassure him. "Marius, my darling husband. You've only known my father a few days…but if you spent a week with him alone, you would see that he was an extremely caring and giving person.

"Many years ago, when he was nearly our age, he caught a small urchin child trying to steal his wallet. My father had the perfect opportunity to turn him into the police. But do you know what he did?"

Marius shook his head.

"Instead of turning him in, he talked to the boy. Asked him where he lived, who his family was. When the boy said he had no home nor family to speak of, my father took him in. He had the boy cleaned up, given new clothes, and hired him as his personal errand boy.

"Ever since then, the boy's life had been turned upside down. He never attempted to steal another man's wallet again." Cosette said.

"Where is the boy now?" Marius asked.

"He's become the curator of several orphanages spread out through England. He's made it his personal goal to see that the children with no families get the best education they can get. He's become a well-respected pillar of the community. And it's all thanks to my father.

Cosette began to fumble with her hands. "As long as we are on the subject…I suppose I should come clean with you…"

Marius looked at her as she began to speak. "He's not really my father biologically. My real father had abandoned my Mother, Fantine Tholoymes. She was about three weeks pregnant with me at the time. One day…a drunken sailor had tried to make advances upon my mother, when my 'father' had intervened. When he learned about my mother's story, he took her in as well, and made her his personal secretary. He always used to say that there was something sweet and sad about her, and he couldn't walk away.

"But also, he didn't want her to be ruined by the papers and a scandal, if she became pregnant and wasn't even wed. So he married her right then and there, and being the respectable man he was, no questions were asked.

"Sadly…my mother died when I was born. But I remember the first words my father spoke to me…he would say it every so often. He said no matter what, he would always be there to protect me. And he always was."

Marius sat in silence, as he wiped the tear that was rolling down her cheek.

"My point is, Marius…that my father would've gone above and beyond for anyone or anything, and he wouldn't even question it. He could tell you love me as I love you. So that's why he sacrificed himself for me. That's why he left his fortune to us. He would've wanted the best for you. He would've insisted that you become part of his family. He would've given you everything."

Marius held her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. "Thank you for telling me that. Your father was a great man! I promise you, everything he's built up, everything in his name, I will cherish with you. In his memory." The two of them smiled.

**THURSDAY, JULY 4** **th** **, 1912**

**Cape May, NJ**

It was the 4th of July. People were coming down from all over New Jersey to spend their summer at the Cape May Beach.

Combeferre had reassured Eponine that he was ready to face his neurosis of the ocean.

So the two of them, Gavroche, and the Carsons all got ready and walked down a few blocks to go down to the beach.

Jack took Gavroche to the beach a few times before. The first time he felt like he was setting foot on another planet. It had been his first time stepping on sand. It was a whole new experience for him.

Eponine followed suit with Deena for a few times, but now she'd have to wear an unflattering shirt to conceal her rather visible belly.

This would be their first time with Combeferre, who has not seen the ocean since they left New York.

"Darling, are you sure you are ready for this?" Eponine asked her new husband as they were walking down the street.

"If I wasn't sure, I would still be sitting indoors. As long as you'll be here, I'll be fine." He reassured her.

Eponine's smile glowed. She still couldn't get it around her head that she was finally married to her childhood sweetheart.

And Combeferre felt like the luckiest man in the world. It was one thing to have the love of his life stay by his side, but it was something more to have her as his wife. The two of them strolled down the sidewalk until they reached the boardwalk.

When they climbed up the steps and reached the deck, Combeferre could see the ocean. He stopped for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Eponine asked.

He took a deep breath and said "Yes…the ocean's not going to swallow me up…" he joked, before asking seriously "…right?"

"It won't, love. You're safe." Eponine grasped his hand, as they made their way down to the beach. They were met by Gavroche and the Carsons.

They laid out a few towels down on the sand.

Jack and Gavroche raced down to the shoreline. Combeferre laid his head down on Eponine's lap. She took the moment to rub his forehead.

"You're doing great, darling. Two months ago you wouldn't have given this a second glance." She said to him.

Combeferre nodded. "I never would've done this without you." He turned his head to kiss her belly. "Have you decided on names?"

Eponine shook her head. "No. I've still got time. You?"

"Not really."

She kissed his forehead. "It'll come to us, I'm sure."

Eponine stopped rubbing his forehead and laid down next to Combeferre. The two of them fell asleep on the towels in each other's arms. The sun wasn't especially hot, so they didn't have to worry about a sunburn.

Suddenly, Combeferre thought he had heard Gavroche scream. He bolted upright and saw Gavroche splashing in the water.

His mind did not register that Gavroche was in fact, only horse-playing with Jack.

Acting on instinct, Combeferre shot up and ran for the shoreline, leaving Eponine dazed and confused.

Combeferre leapt into the waves crashing against the shore, and dove in after Gavroche.

"It's alright, Gav! I've got you!" Combeferre said as he spat out water.

"Frank! Frankie!" Jack called out. "Stop! He's alright!"

"Are you out of your damn mind! He almost drowned!"

"Frank, stand up!" Jack demanded.

Combeferre looked at where he was, then got up on his feet, and realized he was only waist-deep in the water, while the water was only up to Gavroche's chest.

"Oh…my God…I am so sorry, Gavroche! I thought…"

"Hey, no worries, Frank." The little boy shrugged it off.

"Oh, look on the bright side, Frankie!" Jack said. "Look at where you are!"

Combeferre looked around and realized he was in the water after all, and did not panic on that thought alone.

Eponine walked over to the shoreline. "Franklin…I can't believe it…you're in the water!"

Frank smiled at his wife. "Yes…yes I am." He then lowered himself to kneel in the water, as he moved his hand into a scooped position. "And so are You!" then in a fluid motion, he scooped up some water and splashed Eponine, making her jump!

"Oh you may be my husband now, Frank Combeferre, but you are a dead husband now!" she laughed as she carefully walked into the water and splashed him too.

It was his first time back in water after the sinking, and with everything else considered in the moment, he couldn't have been happier.


	5. July--August, 1912

**DISCLAIMER: Sexual Content; Viewer Discretion is Advised**

**JULY 12** **th** **, 1912**

**Café Musain, New York, NY**

It was just around closing time. There were a few patrons still inside the café.

Grantaire was gathering his sketches and his notebook when Cornelia Enjolras approached him.

"Mr. Grantaire…I've been very understanding of your predicament. And I've also been extremely generous with letting you in on the funds we accomplished. But I am afraid that you've gone too far today!"

Darcy rolled his eyes and nonchalantly asked "What's the problem, milady?"

Cornelia produced a piece of paper and slammed it on the table.

"Your latest pictures…" Cornelia began. "Depict women butchering men to death in slow torture, while we hold our picket signs."

Grantaire shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know why you're upset over it. The picket signs remained the same. I didn't change a thing…"

"You fool! I was talking about the illustrations you made of women's treatment of men!" Cornelia huffed. "Do you deny it?"

He shrugged his shoulders again. "Do _you_ deny it?"

"I beg your pardon?!" Cornelia spat out.

"Alright! If you want my honest opinion, I'll give it to you!" Grantaire began. "Look, I get that women want equal rights! I get it. You want respect. You want authority. You want rights. I've nothing against that; I am in complete support of it! I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to sign on for your cause."

He then picked up the paper that Cornelia threw on the table. "This wasn't supposed to be made public, alright?! I drew that for my sake. The _real_ images you wanted are right here!" Grantaire flipped through his notebook and handed a paper to Cornelia.

She snatched it from him and studied it carefully. "Darcy…this is exactly what we had asked for…" She looked up at him incredulously.

"Look, I'm sorry that image got released into the public. I know it wasn't meant for the world's eyes…"

"But, Mr. Grantaire…whether or not it was intentional, you still drew it. Why?" She insisted.

"Want me to be honest?" He asked. Cornelia reluctantly nodded. Grantaire took a deep breath. "As I was saying, I _am_ in support of Women's Rights. As tough as that is to believe, I do favor equality.

"But the fact is, it is the principle of double standards that are driving me insane!" Grantaire continued. "Do you women honestly believe that you will get anywhere if you only attempt at making men look terrible? Calling them pig-headed, arrogant, drunks, everything that defines men? Do you find it necessary to endorse women by addressing men only in derogatory fashion?

"I have lived in Ireland, and have seen my fair share of oppressed people, let alone women. I've seen plenty of men take advantage of women. But I shall tell you now that women would be no different if they tried to accomplish their agendas by only bringing men down the way we've brought _them_ down."

Cornelia Enjolras looked at Grantaire with awe. She had never heard him so well-spoken before.

"I have no say in how things get done around here, but if you want my advice, pick your battles. More importantly, give the people reasons why you should be allowed equal rights. Find all the things positive that women have accomplished. Focus on everything good that women can bring into the community."

Cornelia held her chest. She's met quite a few men in her life. They were all stubborn and set in their ways.

Grantaire was completely different. She has never met a man who was just as passionate about her cause as she was. She wondered what her deceased brother James would say to such a competition.

She struggled to find the right words for him.

"Darcy…I'm…I'm sorry for lashing out like that. If you're correct that this image was not meant to be released, then I apologize. You really do seem as if your heart is good…it's just…difficult to find that…"

"Is it because I'm a man or because I'm a hot-tempered Irishman?" Grantaire grumbled.

Cornelia's silent struggle to give him an answer was long enough for him to take whatever hint his mind had told him, and gathered up his equipment, bid her good evening.

Her eyes never left him as he walked out of the café.

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_Combeferre parked his car and walked into the house. He greeted his wife, Eponine who was in the Kitchen as she was kneading dough to bake some bread. He was then greeted by his little children._

_It felt like only yesterday that Eponine was still a few months pregnant with his first child._

_In fact, he could've sworn he only went to bed the night before, and she was slightly showing her petite pregnancy._

_When his children broke the hug to face him…his heart dropped._

_His children bore disturbingly similar features to that of Feuilly and Azelma. When he noticed this, they suddenly glared at him._

" _Not quite what you expected huh?!" the little boy bellowed, with a demonic voice._

" _Wh…what?!" Combeferre stuttered._

" _Didn't think we'd ever leave huh? Rather than mourn, you think you'd deserve to live life to the fullest?!" The little girl shrieked._

" _As if you're even fit enough to be a father. Look at yourself! Who would want to be YOUR children?! I think we're victims ourselves!"_

_Lost for words, he turned to his wife for guidance. But she was nowhere to be seen. In her place, was someone he had hoped never to see_

_Andrew Combeferre._

"NOOOOOOOO!" Frank screamed as he bolted up in bed.

**JULY 20** **th** **, 1912**

**Cape May, NJ**

Eponine jolted up by Frank's scream.

Gavroche took a trip to Delaware with the Carsons for the weekend, leaving Eponine and Combeferre with the house to themselves.

So this time only she could hear her love scream.

"Franklin?!" she said, with growing concern.

This time, she knew exactly what to do. Without hesitating a moment, she grabbed his forehead, and helped him back into reality.

"Another bad dream?" she asked him, as he began to breathe slowly.

He slowly nodded. "This time…" he whispered. "Their ghosts came back…and said I would make a horrible father."

She didn't even let him finish his thought before grabbing his face and pressing her lips against his forehead for a prolonged time.

"Darling, you know full well you will be a great father. Do you not see how well you bond with Gavroche?"

Frank half-smiled, remembering that day that he played with Gavroche at the beach, and how he felt as if he developed a fatherly bond with the young boy.

But then the last image in his mind burned as he continued.

"That's not all…" he said. "Just before I woke up, I saw an image of…him."

Eponine had Combeferre sit on the edge of the bed as she rubbed his shoulders. "Who was it? Feuilly? James?"

"My brother…"

Eponine stopped massaging, and was dumbfounded. "That's the first nightmare you've had about him in…ever?"

"As far as I know, yes. I wish I could tell you why he was there…or what he could have to do with my trauma from the _Titanic_ …but I don't know."

Frank plopped backwards on the bed. Eponine laid her head on his chest.

"Oh my darling Frank…how I hate to see you like this." She whispered.

Eponine then proceeded to draw little circles across his bare chest.

"You know…Franklin Combeferre…" she said as her finger started caressing his abdomen slowly. "We may have had a honeymoon, but we didn't really… _have_ a honeymoon."

Frank looked up to see a mischievous grin on Eponine's face.

He looked at her cautiously. "What do you mean, Mrs. Combeferre?" he tried to play along.

Eponine then stroked her fingers along the skin just above the waistline of Frank's pajama bottoms. "Oh…nothing. It's just…we only made love the one time and all…" she said nonchalantly.

"Yes, I am aware of that, my dear. But we must remember you're expecting. How can we be sure if it's safe for the baby?"

"Well…I've actually asked Deena about it…and she told me that one of her married friends had tried it when she was pregnant, and the baby turned out fine." She began to tug at his waistline.

Combeferre put a hand over hers to stop her. "Darling…I'm still quite shook up from my dream…"

Eponine grinned at him. "Which is why I think we definitely need this."

And without warning, she yanked his pajama bottoms down and began to straddle him.

"Darling! What's gotten into you?!" Frank asked, flabbergasted. "Not that I'm complaining…it's just…"

"Oh sod what's gotten into me. It's what _hasn't_ gotten into me that's driving me crazy right now!" She then crawled back to the end of the bed, and knelt down in front of him.

She grabbed a hold of his manhood, and started stroking it up and down.

Combeferre tried to maintain composure. "The Carsons don't have relatives in Delaware…do they?" he tried to speak.

She looked up at him. "My dear handsome husband, who do you think it was to suggest that they take Gavroche and leave us alone in the house."

Combeferre couldn't help his smile. "Damn you, Franklin Combeferre! You're doing that smile again! We'll see who smiles the most!" Eponine giggled as suddenly, she grabbed his manhood, and lowered her face close to it.

"Whoa…what are you…"

"This was something an old friend in Donegal taught me. She said her lover was groveling at her feet in no time because of it."

And with that, she grabbed him, and gently teased his tip with her tongue, sending a chill through Combeferre.

As the teasing intensified, she lowered mouth onto him.

"Damn…" he gasped. "Whoever your friend is…Jesus…they…whoa…okay…oh fuck…whoever they are…they are getting a Christmas card this year!"

He pressed his head back against the pillow, moaning in ecstasy as she began to lick him all around.

After another couple of minutes of this, she pulled it out of her mouth, and sat up and began to straddle him.

"Now that I've gotten you all hard and manly like, I'm here to take what's mine!" she whispered, as she hiked up her nightdress, and grabbed his penis and positioned it so that it would go directly into her.

She grabbed a hold of both of his wrists and pinned them down on the mattress as she lowered herself onto him.

"Christ…Eponine…I never took you for one to take control!"

"I wanted you for so long! And now, nothing's going to stop me from having you!" she exclaimed as she continued to thrust up and down on him.

When she did let go of his hands, she placed them on her ass to have him squeeze her tight.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph…Frank! You're so fecking big!" Eponine gasped.

Combeferre struggled to nod, as his head slid up and down on the pillow. "We…" he tried to breath in between words. "Need…to send…Gav and the Carsons…out more…often…"

She silenced him by kissing his neck in between the thrusts, and licking his neck and biting on his ear.

About ten or twenty minutes later, he was sitting up-right on the edge of the bed, with her still in his lap. His hands were still on her ass, and this time, he was the one doing the licking.

Her nipples were almost numb from his mouth and tongue.

Her gasps intensified as he continued to throb while inside her. They looked at each other for a few moments. They both knew that each other were about to climax. So they just kept going until one gave out first, then the other.

He held on tight with his arms around her waist, as he finally came. She moaned in absolute pleasure as she came with him.

After regaining their breaths, Combeferre kissed her neck and whispered "I love you…"

"I love you too, Mr. Combeferre." She whispered in response.

She then pushed him back on the bed, as she tried to fidget her way to lay directly on top of him.

"Here. Lay on your side." She ordered. The two of them laid on their sides, but she kept a firm grip on him.

"You slipped out of me once, I am not letting that happen just yet again!" She grinned.

Combeferre flashed his killer smile. "I wasn't planning to this time. In fact, if we don't mind going on a hunger strike for one day, I don't intend on letting you leave this bed!"

Eponine scoffed. "I rather liked being in control! I'm not so sure I can allow you to decide if I were to be here in bed all day with my hunk of a man!"

Combeferre pulled her in for a kiss. "Do I detect some sort of a challenge, Mrs. Combeferre? To see who can last the longest as the dominant one?"

She smiled and kissed him back. "Within the hour, you're on!" And then she wrapped her one leg around him, keeping him secure.

He held tight onto her waist. "That works for me."

**AUGUST 1** **st** **, 1912**

**Cambridge, Massachusetts**

Julien Lesgles was alive. That much Clara had known since the day after they landed in New York.

It was slightly over two months since his memory came back, and he was no longer Maurice Bossuet.

But Julien was not Julien, and it killed Clara on the inside.

She only had perhaps a few minutes alone with him. To her it felt like heaven. But ever since Julien found out that Joly Rivera and Henri Courfeyrac had died in the sinking, his entire world, seemed to have shut down on him.

His response patterns were not as frequent as back when he was Maurice. He seemed almost catatonic on some days.

Jean did some research on the matter, and had to give Clara the bad news that it may take a while for Julien to recover from the shock. Clara did not take the news well. Nothing else mattered in the world, but all she wanted was Julien back. The time she had with him was not enough.

They were sitting outside at the park again today. Julien was sitting on the bench by himself alone, while Jean and Clara walked around the path a few times. Julien doesn't even notice.

"It isn't fair…" Clara muttered.

Jean placed a reassuring hand on Clara's shoulder. "I know…but we need to be there for him until he gets over this."

"I've just been so…stupid!" she spat out. Jean looked at her shocked, as she continued. "I was so hell bent on shipboard regulations…I've forbidden myself to fall in love with him…" she held her arms tight, appearing as if she needed another person's embrace. Jean certainly knew whom it was that she needed to embrace.

"And when everything fell apart…on the deck, we shared a moment…one moment was all we had, before I lost him. That image of him standing there in that damn lifejacket, as the railing blocked my view, that is the very last image I have of him the way I want him to be."

Jean put his arm around her shoulder. She instantly went into his arms and began to cry hysterically.

"It was hard enough…" he heard her muffled voice. "when I thought he had died…" Jean stroked her hair. "I didn't think it would be harder to have him alive but with no memories of us…

"I don't know if my heart can take Julien gone into shock now that he knows the truth…I never had him, and yet I want him back!" she continued to cry.

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Julien was looking at the trees and the birds, and the children playing on the grass, and the clear blue skies. That's what he saw; what he felt was sadness and emptiness.

He was writing away in his pad of paper. Neither Jean nor Clara had questioned his sudden need to write and write, so he continued to do so in private.

When Jean and Clara returned, he quickly tore off the page he was writing on and shoved it in his coat pocket.

The two could tell there was a mixture of sadness and worry in his face, but they knew better not to question it.

So the three had walked from the park to a nearby restaurant to have dinner. Julien took off his coat and wrapped it around his chair.

"So, Clara, how is Nursing School going for you?" Jean asked, trying to break up the tension.

"Oh…it's going well. I just wish the exams weren't so difficult." Clara responded.

"Well, I suppose that is the price to pay for education." Jean teased. Clara rolled her eyes.

He then turned to Julien. "And what about you, Julien? I couldn't help but notice you tend to write a lot. Do you plan to get anything published?"

Julien looked up from the napkin on his lap, and stared at Jean for a moment or two before shrugging his shoulders. "It's mostly personal stuff…I can't get the right words out of my mouth but I can get it out better on paper if that makes sense…" he said in a monotone voice.

"Well…it's progress I suppose…" Clara said softly.

Julien suddenly got up. "Is there a washroom somewhere nearby?" he asked. An approaching waiter pointed towards the back. He hustled towards the back of the room.

Jean's heart ached as he knew this sort of sudden emotional outburst would happen. It's happened at least three times already.

Clara's eye had not left the pocket of Julien's coat. Without even looking at Jean for approval or for consultation, she dug her hand into the pocket, and pulled out the torn piece of paper. She tried to read it as quickly as she could.

_**Help me come back** _

_My dearest Clara,_

_There are some moments in life that you wish you could relive forever. Other times you wish you could change the past. But I know that could never happen. Never._

_How can I say my feelings out loud, when all that come out of my mouth is sadness and anger?_

_I feel so trapped in my own body. I feel as if I never came back from the dead._

_All we had was a moment or two. I kissed you when I thought I would never see you again. That was the last time that I saw you when I was Julien. That was the last time that I felt so alive._

_When I was Maurice, I felt completely lost. And yet something tugged at me in my mind;_

_Somehow, it was meant for you to come back to me. It had to be, if the doctors claimed I kept saying your name._

_When we kissed again, my memories came back; But my heart was shattered beyond repair when I learned of Joly and Henri. I've gone into shock and despair…too weak to speak._

_Yet somehow, not weak enough to write._

_I am sorry for what I've become. I cannot tell you how difficult it is for me to just come right out and say it. I want my life back. I want my friends back. I want to know how good it feels to be in your arms again._

_All we had was a moment or two. But I would do anything to get them back. If I realize that I only dreamt it, I do not want to wake up. I want to come back. Help me come back._

_Yours…even if only in memory,_

_Julien Lesgles._

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Julien continued to splash cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. The door slowly opened, and it was Jean.

"What the hell has come over me, Jean?" Julien pleaded.

"In spite of what you believe, it is normal for you to feel this way. This has been a traumatizing event…for all of us. I miss them too. Mon Dieu, I miss them so much."

Julien returned his gaze to the mirror. "How…how can I go on living life? The last time we shared a moment…I kissed her as her lifeboat was being lowered. That moment is forever tied to that horrible night! How can I adjust to normality if whenever I think about kissing her, I get a flash-back to hanging on for dear life, listening to thousands of screams, shivering in pain-staking cold?"

Jean grabbed both of his shoulders. "Julien Lesgles, listen to me. What happened that night…I tell you now I would give anything to forget it completely. But I can't. We were great friends with Joly and Henri for too long to simply forget this nightmare. But what we need to do instead, is to just acknowledge to ourselves that we are still not okay. We need to embrace the fact that we still are hurting, and that we still need time to heal. This is not something that can happen overnight.

"Look…it's not my place to say, but Clara loves you. She has been absolutely miserable not having you, whether it be dead, consumed by amnesia, or catatonic. She wants you back. She wants the Julien who has fallen in love with her that night before everything went wrong. She misses you terribly.

"Can you please do me a personal favor, and just let the emotions out of you once and for all? And this time, do not run off to another room. Let Clara embrace you. It's what she wants more than anything else in the world."

Julien looked at his friend, and slowly nodded. After hugging it out, the two returned to the table.

Clara had carefully hidden the note back into the pocket before they arrived. She had wiped her eye with her napkin.

"Are you alright, Clara?" Julien asked. She nodded saying she had a little dust in her eye.

Jean knew better.

**AUGUST 15** **th** **, 1912**

**Washington D.C.**

Cosette Pontmercy was driving their Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost Labourdette Torpedo automobile. Marius was sitting in the passenger seat, clutching his head with a cold water bottle.

They had been silent for the majority of the ride home. The silence was anything but comfortable. Finally, Cosette broke the tension.

"Are you going to say anything?" She asked.

Marius lifted the bottle from his head and shrugged his shoulders. "What do you want me to say, Cosette?"

"I don't know… _anything_. Tell me it will be fine, or yell at me, or tell me you don't approve! Just…anything!" she pleaded.

"Darling…ow!" Marius was about to say before applying the bottle back to his head. "As I've mentioned in the past…I am in complete support of your cause. Why do you think I came to today's demonstration?"

"I know…but I feel responsible. If I didn't host it, you wouldn't have had that nasty bump on your head. It's a miracle you did not receive a concussion or go into a coma."

"Cosette, I cannot control the crowds. But if I did not do anything, that sexist maniac would've clubbed _you_ instead. I couldn't let that happen, no matter what happened to me."

She couldn't help her smile at his sincerity. "But it was still reckless though…so much else could've happened."

"Exactly. They could've attacked you, or even worse, you could've been arrested by the police instead of the assailants. Why? Because the police have dealt with these causes at least a dozen times in Washington alone. And if I wasn't there to get you away, the police would've locked you up, and that would've defeated your purpose tonight."

Cosette gripped tight onto her steering wheel.

"Marius…do you think this is all a mistake?"

He winced in pain as he turned his head to look at her.

"Do you think women are only wasting their time with all of this suffragette nonsense?!"

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Not at all. It's a very well-deserved cause. I just need you to understand…that we got off easy today because we didn't get arrested today. But until we are completely acknowledged by the President of the United States that women deserve the right to vote, there will be many more obstacles to face."

Cosette mused on the thought. "You were the one who said to me back on…the _Titanic_ that America's version of the demonstration would be more violent…"

Marius grimaced…he said his theory on the day of the ship's fateful collision.

"Well…I don't mind telling you this because you're my husband; but I have to tell you this scares me…a lot. Their determination to put us down kind of disheartens me."

"No." Marius looked at her. "You cannot let them get to you. If you do, you let them win. We cannot let them win. We need to come out on top."

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When they arrived home, Cosette helped Marius out of the car. "I'm alright, darling. I may have been clubbed on the head, but my knees still work. Cosette couldn't help her giggle.

After helping Marius get into bed, Cosette told him she was just going to be downstairs for a few minutes.

When she sat down in the parlor, she picked up her newspaper and read an article from New York.

She studied the quotes from the people who were interviewed, and the small sketch that accompanied the article. She checked the time, and went over to her telephone, picked up the ear piece and dialed the rotary disc.

"Operator…can you connect me with a Miss Cornelia Enjolras in New York?"

**AUGUST 22** **nd** **, 1912**

**Harvard University Bookstore**

**Cambridge, Massachusetts**

Jean was walking around aimlessly in the campus bookstore. He was looking for strategies and inspirations to become a better writer.

"Need help?" a friendly and familiar voice called out behind him.

He turned around and saw Mary DuFontaine standing in front of him. "Mary! I didn't know you worked here."

"I was only hired maybe a week or two ago. I needed something to take my mind off of…well you know."

Jean nodded. "How are you liking this job?"

"I mean, at first it was hard to keep me distracted, but then I've been spending time with my co-workers, and it made me realize…I can't spend the rest of my life mourning over someone I've only been with for two years. It's been four months…I feel as if I need to move on."

Jean looked at her sad smile. He knew it wasn't easy, but she did make a point.

"I shouldn't really tell you this, since we only saw each other once after the sinking, but I wish Julien had your strength."

Mary nodded. "I know…has he not gotten over Joly?"

Jean shrugged his shoulders. "I wish I could tell you. I mean, he seemed to be doing better recently, but with his sudden mood swings it's hard to tell."

"Anyway…" Mary clasped her hands together, in an obvious sign to change the subject. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"I'm trying to get into writing, and nothing I ever write looks good enough. I'm hoping to just improve upon my skills."

"Hmm…I might have something. Don't go away! I'll be right back!" she smiled before turning around.

Jean had to turn around…his chest began to tighten the instant she smiled at him.

 _What the hell, Prouvaire?_ He thought to himself. _She was JUST moving on from Courfeyrac. Your heart's not suppose flutter with her! It wouldn't be fair to him._

He suddenly became distracted with his thoughts. He always knew she was pretty. In fact, in Paris there were times that he was jealous of Courfeyrac for being so lucky to have Mary.

It would be different if the two of them had called it quits on their relationship, and she would be naturally single. But the fact is, he's dead…and somehow it seems to Jean that if he had taken an interest in Mary, it would be like he's become a grave robber. He couldn't do that to Courfeyrac.

He snapped out of his thoughts quickly before Mary came back empty handed.

"I'm sorry, Jean I searched everywhere. We might be out of stock for the time being."

"Oh…well that's a bummer." He shrugged his shoulders.

"But it should be back in stock by the end of next week, if you'd like to come back…?" she asked.

Jean smiled and said "That sounds great! Thank you. See you then!"

When Jean left the bookstore, Mary returned to the cashier's stand, and eyed the small pile of books that fit the description of what Jean was looking for. Her co-worker came up to her and said "Mary, you devious little schemer! If that wasn't a rouse to have him come back in here, I don't know what is!"

Mary made no effort to control her blushing.


	6. September 1st, 1912

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be the setup to introduce the crossover of Clive Cussler's Isaac Bell Series

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:**

**Hey everyone! Are you enjoying this story? Just an update, I decided to recruit the help of the characters from Clive Cussler’s _Isaac Bell_ series. All characters belong to Clive Cussler no copyright fringement intended. The characters introduced will have an “ &” symbol in their first appearance. In the meantime, please R&R I would really love some feedback.**

**SEPTEMBER 2 nd, 1912**

**Cape May, NJ**

“Are you sure that you will be alright, Gav?” Combeferre asked as he pulled the car over to the curb.

 

“It’s no sweat, Frankie! School had to begin at some point. You knew that even before we came here.” Gavroche said before gathering his knapsack and his books.

 

“I know.” Combeferre sighed.

 

“Aw, cheer up, governor! It’s not like I’m getting married or anything, I’ll see you later tonight!”

 

“Have a great first day! Make good impressions!” Combeferre waved.

 

Gavroche hopped out of the car and waved back to Frank. As soon as Gavroche walked into the front door of the school, he released the parking brake and drove away from the curb.

 

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Deena was busy crocheting in the parlor room. She was soon joined by Eponine who had a little bit of a wobble in her walk.

 

Deena looked up at Eponine and jokingly said “I guess the expecting is beginning to take its toll on you.”

 

Eponine wobbled over to the couch and half-smiled. “Laugh all you want, Deena Carson. How in the blazes is it that you haven’t found yourself love yet?”

 

Deena shrugged her shoulders. “Just haven’t met the right man yet. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

 

Eponine shifted uncomfortably while keeping a hold of her now very pregnant belly. “Well, as soon as you find your love, and conceive a child with him, I am allowed to tease you once!”

 

“Fair enough, young lass!” Deena chuckled.

 

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Jack Carson had managed to secure Frank a job at the Western Union office. Ever since moving to Cape May, Combeferre had learned to send and receive Morse Code. It was something he felt he needed to learn since the _Titanic_ sinking.

 

When Combeferre arrived in the office, he was surprised to see that Jack was not at his desk.

 

Frank shrugged his shoulders and sat down at his desk. On his to-do pile, he had an unfinished letter he meant to have taken overseas to his former but very dear landlord, Maximilian Lamarque.

 

He knew he promised Lamarque he would send a wire from the ship, but Eponine happened. Not that he was complaining, but he still felt terrible for not sending word to Lamarque, especially after what happened.

 

Frank wondered how Lamarque had possibly reacted that one of his favorite tenants…had perished.

 

Without wasting another moment, he picked up the letter and began to finish writing it.

 

_Maximilian Lamarque_

_9 Stanley Crescent_

_London, England_

_To my dear old friend,_

_When I first penned this letter, I was too overcome with emotions to even get my words out right. I’m sure you know by now about what happened to James if you visited the White Star Office recently. But if not…it pains me to say this: James Enjolras went down with the_ Titanic.

_So much has happened, Maximilian…Not even with the sinking…I had bumped into this girl I knew back in Ireland. You probably remember her, I used to talk about her when I roomed under your flat._

_Anyway, we met again…we discovered our feelings for each other, and we fell in love. She survived the sinking as well; as did her brother. But her parents and younger sister were not so lucky._

_I really wish I could write everything that happened and everything I was feeling…but I’m sure you’re already overcome with grief over James. But I thought I should write you now and tell you that I have settled down now._

_Conkling and Lambeth was forced to shut down, so I am living with some friends in Cape May. Eponine and I are happily married and expecting our first child together. Her little brother is going to school now._

_As much as I want to come back and visit soon, I’m afraid it will be too soon for me to board another ship. Perhaps when I make enough money, I could send for you? Just something to consider._

_Please write to me as soon as you can. You’re in my thoughts and prayers._

_Sincerely_

_Franklin Combeferre._

And with that, he folded the letter and slid it into an envelope. He called for the office’s intern, Peter Gervais.

 

“Can you do me a favor, and have this stamped out and taken over to the postal service, and make sure it gets on the first passenger mail ship to England?”

 

“Sure thing, Mr. Combeferre.” The young boy said before taking the letter and hustling off, before Combeferre quickly called him back.

 

“One more thing, have you seen Mr. Carson today?”

 

“No sir.”

 

“Hmm…odd. He left the house this morning before I did. Was anything scheduled for him outside of the office today?”

 

“No, Mr. Combeferre. And he hasn’t even called out due to illness either.”

 

“Quite right…he would’ve phoned by now if that were the case.”

 

 

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**Cambridge, Massachusetts**

Clara was sitting on the couch in her apartment, adjoining the one that Jean and Julien had shared.

 

She was stroking the piece of paper she had discovered last month. When Julien wasn’t looking, she swiped the note and kept it inside her apartment.

 

She didn’t care if he discovered it missing. In fact, she was hoping he would find her with it. It would force him into talking it out with her. It’s what she wants now more than anything.

 

There was a knock on the door. “Yes?”

 

“Clara? It’s Jean!” Prouvaire’s voice sounded shaken.

 

Clara had quickly gotten up and rushed to the door. She saw the worried look on Jean’s face, and she instantly knew something was wrong.

 

“Julien’s missing. He left a worrisome message for me, I just found it now.”

 

 

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Julien sat on the edge of the Anderson Memorial Bridge over the Charles River.

 

 _Come on Julien…you can do it. Just a few more inches, and you’ll be free._ He thought to himself.

 

_It’s not like they’ll miss you when you’re gone…you’re already gone. You’ve been gone since all of this happened!_

_They know by now you cannot come back! You’re a lost cause that will never recover. End this. End this right now!_

He stood up on the rail of the bridge, and crouched down to take the jump.

 

 “JULIEN NO!”

 

He turned around. It was Clara and Jean.

 

“No! Stop!” Julien pointed to them. “Not one more inch, either of you!”

 

Clara and Jean stopped in their tracks.

 

“Julien…please…don’t do this!” Clara said softly, with tears in her eyes.

 

“Why not? Just a quick leap of faith and you won’t have to deal with me anymore!”

 

“ _Deal_ with you? Julien, we NEED you!” She pleaded.

 

“You are all we have left, Julien.” Jean added. “We’re a family.”

 

“Oh don’t give me that horse shit!” Julien barked. “You don’t understand what I’m going through! When I’m gone, you two will be able to get on with your lives!”

 

“No! You don’t really believe that! I know you, Julien!” Clara insisted. “You’re crying out for help!”

 

“How, Clara? How can I possibly be crying out for help?!” Julien demanded, with his voice shaking.

 

And without hesitating a moment, Clara reached into her pocket and pulled out Julien’s note.

 

“This, right here, is your proof, Julien!”

 

He stared at the note as she continued. “You wrote this to me. I found it because I am worried sick over you! Do you think I’d be able to live with myself if I let anything happen to you?! Do you think Joly and Henri would be proud if you did this?”

 

Julien’s body began to wobble, as he was still on the rail.

 

“They would’ve wanted you to live your life to the fullest! If they survived and you didn’t, how would you feel if they tried to kill themselves?”

 

Julien’s hands were shaking by now.

 

“Julien…we talked about this. Clara needs you. I need you. Please…for the love of God…just get down from the rail and just say that you need help!” Jean pleaded.

 

It took about three painstakingly long minutes, but eventually, Julien hesitantly climbed down and collapsed on his knees.

 

Clara rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him. With no hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her as well. “I’m sorry Clara…but I’m not ok!” Julien wept.

 

“Shh…” Clara whispered. “Don’t think about it…I will never go away. We will be together every day.”

 

As soon as she kissed Julien’s forehead, his crying seemed to calm a little.

 

 

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**Washington D.C.**

Marius was pacing back and forth in the study. Cosette was sitting in her chair reading a book.

 

“Cosette, are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked once he stopped pacing.

 

“I don’t know what else to do, Marius. I feel like I’m not getting my message across, and this Cornelia Enjolras lady seems like she knows what she’s talking about.”

 

Just then, the doorbell rang.

 

Cosette’s maid, Madame Toussaint, whom had also survived the _Titanic_ sinking, hustled to the door.

 

Cosette stood up as Marius walked over to the door.

 

When Madame Toussaint opened the door, Marius looked surprised.

 

When Cornelia and Grantaire entered, he first asked the latter. “Aren’t you that stoker fellow who testified against Duff Gordon?”

 

“Aye. And do my eyes tell true that you are the one that challenged the prosecutor?!” Grantaire asked.

 

“Oh yes! That’s right!”

 

“Ahem.” Cosette coughed.

 

“Oh…sorry. You must be Miss Enjolras of New York.” Marius said, greeting the young suffragette.

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pontmercy. And this must be your radiant wife, Cosette? She was so pleasant over the telephone.”

 

Cosette went to greet Cornelia. “I can see these two have met before.” She said referring to Marius and Grantaire.

 

“Well, you remember him, Cosette. Don’t you?”

 

“Marius, I don’t think this is a good time…”

 

“Wait a minute…” Cornelia began to put the pieces together. “Duff Gordon…testimony…I take it then that both of you had…”

 

Marius and Cosette nodded in response.

 

Cornelia put her hand over her chest. “Oh dear, oh dear. I did not realize. Perhaps I’ve come at a bad…”

 

“Oh nonsense!” Marius insisted. “We’re not as bothered by it as we were several months ago. Not to worry! Please, do come in! It’s almost time for tea.”

 

Madame Toussaint took Cornelia and Grantaire’s coats as the two followed Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy.

 

“So, Mr. Pontmercy, I thought I heard Mr. Grantaire here mention something about you challenging a prosecutor?”

 

“Well…you heard correct, Miss Enjolras. It was at the Inquiry for the _Titanic_. He seemed to be talking in circles, or not taking my testimony seriously, so I simply called him out on it.”

 

“And it didn’t seem to faze you of the potential consequences?” Cornelia asked.

 

“At that point…I was under a lot of stress. All I wanted was for Cosette and I to rest after the trauma we’ve experienced that week. And his incompetence simply put me over the edge.”

 

“I see.”

 

“But rest assured, Miss Enjolras, it was an ill-advised moment, not one of my best, and I have improved upon myself.”

 

“On the contrary…” Cornelia began. “it seems to be the perfect kind of attitude…the kind of mindset we would need.”

 

And with that, the four adjourned into the study for tea.

 

 

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**Cape May, NJ**

“Okay…well…perhaps…maybe it is possible…well, I can leave the office now, pick Gavroche up and come straight home. Very well…I’ll see you when I get home.” Combeferre hung up the phone.

 

Peter Gervais got up from his desk. “Any word from Mr. Carson?”

 

“No…and Deena’s getting worried. I called at Noon two hours ago, asking if he came home sick. But she’s never heard. I suggested she’d try all of the possible places he could be, and they all said the same thing. I’m going to go and pick Gavroche up and go home now.” Combeferre said before straightening up his desk.”

 

Peter walked over to him. “I’ll take care of cleaning up, Mr. Combeferre. You go and do what you need to. I’ll telephone you if I hear anything!”

 

Frank couldn’t help but admire the young intern for his dedication. “Thank you, Peter.” He said before walking out of the office.

 

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Combeferre’s palms were beginning to sweat as he gripped his steering wheel. He had just continued driving after having picked up Gavroche from school.

 

Considering the fact that he knows Gavroche has been through hell already, there was no hesitation in Frank being up front with what concerned everybody.

 

“And you’ve checked all of the possible places?” Gavroche asked, after being told that Jack was missing.

 

“Yes. Deena’s really worried now, so I need you to be strong. Do you understand?”

 

Gavroche scoffed. “I’m an Irish lad. I’ll be alright.”

 

“I meant for her sake, Gavroche. Deena isn’t Irish, and may not be as strong as you are.”

 

 

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Eponine had made tea for everyone after Combeferre and Gavroche returned home. Deena was pacing back and forth wringing her hands.

 

“Should we call the police?” she finally asked.

 

“He has not been missing for twenty-four hours yet. Otherwise, I would say ‘go ahead!’”

 

After Gavroche rolled out the tea cart, Eponine came in from the kitchen and sat down next to Combeferre.

 

“This is killing me, Frank.” She whispered, motioning to Deena. “She’s done so much for us. _They’ve_ done so much for us. I’d hate to see her this way.”

 

“Me too, ‘Ponine. Me too.” He whispered in response.

“Did he say he was going anywhere other than work?” Gavroche asked.

 

“No. He said he was going to meet me at the office after I dropped you off.”

 

Eponine was about to say something when there was a loud banging on the door.

 

Combeferre held up his hands to stop Deena or Eponine from getting up to answer the door. He slowly approached it, amidst even more banging.

 

But there was something off in the demand of the pounding. It wasn’t quick and consistent. It was in small bursts.

 

Then Combeferre put two and two together and quickly opened the door, to find a bleeding Jack Carson collapse in front of him.

 

“Eponine!” Frank cried out. “Call for a doctor! Deena! Gavroche! Come help me!”

 

Deena cried out at the sight of her brother. They struggled to pick him up and bring him over to the couch. Deena didn’t care about the blood that was trickling on the floor. She was just too overcome with relief to have Jack home…but also worried even more over his current condition.

 

“Gavroche, I need you to apply pressure to his wounds here! Quickly!” Combeferre ordered.

 

Within the hour, Doctor Simplice had arrived and quickly went over to check on Jack, after Gavroche and the women cleared the room. Combeferre took a seat in the corner, to give the doctor space.

 

After dressing the wounds and applying bandages, Doctor Simplice had called Combeferre over.

 

“He is going to be alright, Mr. Combeferre. Nothing vital was hit, so his wounds are not fatal. But there are some things here that concern me.”

 

The Doctor began to point to certain parts of Jack’s torso. “There are long gashes along his abdomen. Not deep enough to penetrate the organs or to cause serious damage…more like grazes to let the bleeding flow. He’s suffered a minor head trauma…to tell you the truth, I’m surprised he even made it to your door…I can only wonder how far he’s crawled.”

 

Jack suddenly mumbled and began to move his hands.

 

“Jack…wait. You need to rest. You’re okay!” Frank whispered, trying to hold back tears.

 

“Sh…sh…shoul…shoulder.” Jack mumbled.

 

The Doctor took the note, and opened up Jack’s shirt. Now Combeferre understood why Jack was eager to show them…

 

“Dear god…” the doctor gasped. “Somebody had carved something in the man’s shoulder.”

 

Frank looked closer. “Is that...the letter C?” the doctor nodded. “This is definitely foul play…We have to alert the authorities.”


	7. Isaac Bell Makes his Entrance

**A/N Here I introduce the Isaac Bell characters who belong to Clive Cussler. I own nothing.**

**SEPTEMBER 3** **rd** **, 1912**

**The Virginia Hotel, 25 Jackson St.**

**Cape May, NJ**

Chief Investigator Isaac Bell, of the Van Dorn Detective Agency, was sitting on the balcony of his room gazing out into the morning sunrise with his fiancé, Marion Morgan. Bell sat prominently with his golden hair and equally golden mustache, while Marion sat with her golden straw-like hair and hour-glass like figure.

They had spent the last week of Augustvacationing in the warm summer days of New Jersey. In another two days they would be returning to the real world. Marion would continue her job with directing moving pictures, and Bell would spend his time catching criminals and bringing justice no matter what it took, or how long it took.

Because the agency he works in, the Van Dorn Detective Agency, has a saying. _"We Never Give Up. Never!"_

There was a soft knock on the door. Marion excused herself to go and answer it.

"Isaac? There is a Sgt. Foley here to see you."

Bell got up from his seat and approached the policeman.

"What seems to be the problem, Officer?" he asked.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir. As I was informed by your Chief, Joseph Van Dorn, you were here on holiday. But we felt the urgency was indeed well placed."

"I'm listening." Bell said, his expression not faltering an inch.

"Well, if I may say so, sir. It appears that your choosing Cape May to spend your holiday was a spot of luck for us, but for bad reasons. There has been another attack."

The policeman opened up his manila envelope and showed Bell a photograph. "He's in critical care now at his residence here. Just a block or two away, so to speak."

Bell's lip twitched in his corner. He's dealt with these kind of reports since July. Actually, Bell was hesitant to take a holiday, but Van Dorn insisted that Bell get some rest, as his latest case involving a thwarted insurrection planned by Anarchists had taken a toll on him physically. But now that his holiday was nearly over, it was time to get back to the case at hand: these sudden random attacks on innocent bystanders by an unknown group of assailants, with no clear motive, and no apparent coordination of attack. It has stumped local law enforcements since June, so they turned to the Van Dorn Detective Agency for help.

"This…Jack Carson. Does he live at home alone?" Bell asked the policeman.

"No sir. There is his sister, and a young family they've taken under their wing. They're all still at the house right now sir."

Bell nodded, and turned to his fiancé. He didn't even have to say a word. Her eyes told him that she understood, and that she was used to these moments that would tear them apart for cases.

"Just be careful, dear." Marion waved. Bell responded by kissing her hand "Not to fret!"

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Bell had waved off the policeman after arriving at Carson Residence. "I'd like a few moments alone with these people." The policeman nodded and said he would wait by the car.

Bell hustled up to the front stoop and pulled the chain for the door-bell.

Inside, Combeferre and Eponine heard the doorbell. He quickly got up before Eponine could move an inch, and answered the door.

"Is this the Carson Residence?"

"Yes, sir. Are you…"

"Chief Investigator Isaac Bell of the Van Dorn Detective Agency, at your service. May I come in?"

Combeferre quickly opened the door wider for Bell to step in. "I must admit, Mr. Bell, we weren't expecting the Chief Investigator, let alone the Van Dorns, to be involved here."

He led Bell into the parlor, where Eponine was sitting, as she fidgeted with her fingers.

"Chief Investigator Bell, let me introduce you. I am Franklin Combeferre, and this is my wife, Eponine. We've been the Carsons' tenants since April this year."

Bell took Eponine's hand with grace. "Delighted to make your acquaintances. And may I offer my congratulations, Mrs. Combeferre?"

Eponine blushed and held her baby bump. "Thank you, Chief Investigator Bell…"

"Please, you two. Call me Isaac. Chief Investigator Bell can be a mouthful even I can't stand it sometimes." Bell chuckled lightly.

As the two sat down, Combeferre on the couch with Eponine and Bell in a chair opposite them, Bell got out his notebook.

"Now, if it is alright with you, let us get straight to the matter at hand. Can you tell me about the victim in question, a Mr. Jack Carson?"

Combeferre gripped Eponine's hand. "Well, he's 28 years old, his sister is 26. They were originally from San Francisco but left when their parents died six years ago."

Bell barely flinched. "Ah…the Great San Francisco Earthquake, I assume?"

Combeferre and Eponine looked at each other flabbergasted. "How did you…"

"The Earthquake occurred six years ago, on April 18th, 1906. There is a picture on the piano behind you that displays a scene of San Francisco as soon as it was engulfed in flames. And I also put two and two together when I learned that the person-of-interest's surname is Carson. I remember looking through the casualty list after the Earthquake, and there was indeed a Mr. and Mrs. Carson who were trapped in the rubble."

Eponine lowered her head. "How awful…" She then turned to Combeferre. "Did you know?"

Frank shook his head. "When they studied abroad in England, they only mentioned that they had lost their parents very recently. I can imagine that it would've been difficult for them to talk about that. They must've been somewhere else during the time it happened."

Bell nodded. "Now that you mention it, I do recall the Carson siblings as they tried to help me with rescuing survivors…the daughter was in a state when they learned of their parents…"

"You were there?" Combeferre asked.

"I was working on the Case of the Butcher Bandit at the time…I came across the Carson residence after the Earthquake…" Bell's face suddenly froze. "I'm grateful the siblings did not see their parents at the time…now that I think of it."

"What happened?" Eponine asked.

Bell lowered his head. "The father was killed instantly in the rubble. But the fire had spread by the time I had gotten there. Mrs. Carson…she was in her nightgown, she was caught in some rubble and they couldn't pull her out in time…the flames caught onto her nightgown…there was no way we could save her…I had to end it before she suffered anymore…"

Eponine held her mouth in shock.

"Well…" Combeferre said softly. "I'm sure you did what you thought was right at the time. There was no way to save her?"

Bell shook his head. After taking a deep breath, he returned to his notebook. "Getting back to the case at hand, can you walk me through the events of yesterday?"

"Well, her little brother, Gavroche had his first day of school yesterday, so I dropped him off and went to work. Jack and I work at the Western Union. He never showed, so I thought it was very strange. By the time last night rolled around, we were all worried sick. He would always find a way to telephone us to report his surroundings. He's never lost his way. We were becoming very agitated. Then out of nowhere, we hear a loud banging on the door. I open it and there's Jack collapsed on the ground, with signs of injuries. When the doctor found that 'brand' on Jack's shoulder, he insisted that I call the police.

"Mr. Bell," Combeferre continued. "I assume the brand on his shoulder may be of some importance to your presence here?"

Bell sighed and put down his notebook. "Before I explain to you the reason I am here, I would like to speak with Jack and examine him."

Combeferre nodded, and led Bell upstairs to Jack's room.

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Deena was seated next to Jack's bed, where the latter was resting.

When Combeferre entered, he quietly introduced Deena to the Chief Investigator. No further time was wasted, and Bell walked over to examine the sleeping Jack.

"Mr. Combeferre had mentioned a brand on Mr. Carson's shoulder?"

Deena nodded, and opened up Jack's shirt to reveal the wound.

"It's the letter 'C'. None of us could make any sense out of it." Combeferre explained.

After examining Jack completely, Bell signaled for Deena and Combeferre to follow him downstairs.

When they all sat down, Bell put away his notebook. "I have been described as a man of no-nonsense. Therefore, I will not beat around the bush with what I am about to tell you."

Eponine wrapped her arm around Combeferre's.

"The brand on Jack's shoulder. I've seen at least two other incidents with the same outcome. The same letter too. We have our best analysts on the case, and even they are stumped. So that's why I need to find out as much from you as possible, with any possible details that can relate to what occurred."

Combeferre slowly nodded, as Bell continued. "Mr. Combeferre, where was your previous residence prior to moving in with the Carsons?"

Eponine flinched as the question was asked. Combeferre took in a deeper breath and said "Mr. Bell, my wife, Eponine, her brother, and myself were aboard…we were aboard…"

Bell held up his hand. "Say no more. I understand. May I offer my condolences?"

The two nodded. "Anyway, I knew the Carsons back in England. They studied abroad sometime prior to our departure. They came to meet us when we docked in New York, and ever since then, they've sort of taken us under their wing."

Bell nodded. "If it's any consolation, my fiancé and I were absolutely devastated over what happened."

"Thank you…" Eponine said softly.

"Apart from that," Bell continued. "Was there any other incident that had occurred prior to this recent incident?"

The three shook their heads.

After about another ten minutes of questions, Bell collected his notebook, his hat and stood up. "Mr. and Mrs. Combeferre, Miss Carson, let me assure you all that we will stop at nothing to make sure that the perpetrators are brought to justice. Our saying is, we never give up. Never. In the meantime, I will send for two Van Dorn house detectives to guard the house and offer their utmost protection. I am afraid to say that this is non-negotiable. Your safety is of prime concern."

Combeferre got up with Bell and walked over to the front door. "Mr. Bell, how can we ever repay you?"

"No need. You just report to me if anything else suspicious occurs. I will keep in touch with any news." Bell said, before shaking Combeferre's hand and walking out the door.

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After arriving back at the police station, Bell had asked for the telephone. He dialed to the Van Dorn's main office and requested to speak with his colleague, the head of Research, Grady Forrer.

"Forrer, it's Bell. We've received a report of another attack. The same M.O."

" _The brand has the same letter?_ " Forrer asked.

"Yes. I want you to stop focusing on the significance of the letter for now, and instead, focus all of your attention on trying to find a possible link between the victims. If it helps at all, the Combeferres had mentioned boarding with the Carsons following the _Titanic_ sinking. None of the incidents have occurred until sometime after. See if the victims are somehow related to the sinking."

" _You got it, Isaac._ "

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"Oh how awful for them to go through all of that!" Marion said, as she was having dinner in their hotel suite with Bell.

"What I am trying to understand, is what is the meaning of the letter 'C'?"

Marion looked at her fiancé and suggested. "Carson's last name initial?"

Bell shook his head. "No…the other victims were random. Willie Von Haderlitz was ambushed at the Baths in New Mexico, and Sasha Barbicon's body was dumped in a ditch in the Upper State of New York."

Marion's face fell with disgust. "Do you suspect that the letter 'C' is at all related to the _Titanic_?"

"All I need to confirm my suspicions are the backgrounds on Haderlitz and Barbicon. And if there is a connection, I'll have something more to go on."

Marion stroked the tip of her champagne glass. "It would be too random to be a passenger's initial…"

"Correct. And prior to our holiday, I received the list of the known gangs of anarchists that are notoriously roaming about in America. Not one of them begin with the letter 'C'."

Just then, the telephone rang. Bell got up to answer it. "Bell. Go ahead."

" _Just cross-checked with Haderlitz and Barbicon. They had both survived the Titanic as well as the Combeferre family_." Grady Forrer said over the phone.

"But wait…something does not add up. If the victims targeted were exclusively _Titanic_ survivors, Combeferre would've been kidnapped and assaulted, not Jack Carson, who was not aboard the ship."

" _Is it possible, that in the culprit's haste, they grabbed the wrong man?"_

Bell pondered on that question. Then he returned to speaking with Forrer. "See if you can find a connection between the assailants of Haderlitz and Barbicon and Carson. On the Jump!" Bell said. _On the Jump_ meant On the Double.

**SEPTEMBER 4** **th** **, 1912**

**Cambridge, Massachusetts**

Mary DuFontaine was tapping nervously on the countertop of the register she was working at. Her friend Isabelle walked up to her, rolling her eyes.

"Are you going to be this fidgety throughout the entire semester?" she asked.

Mary nearly jumped at Isabelle's question. "Isabelle, how can you not be fidgety? He hasn't returned for the book he was looking for but couldn't find."

"You mean the one that you cleverly hid so that you could see him again?"

Mary shoved Isabelle's shoulder. "Shush! Here he comes!"

Jean Prouvaire entered the book shop. " _Bonjour_ , Mary. Ah, you've found it!"

Mary blushed a little and quickly presented it to Prouvaire. "It came in just this morning. You'll be the first customer to have it!"

Isabelle sighed and walked away, as Jean made the purchase.

As Jean was collecting the book, Mary began fumbling with her hands as she tried to speak. Just when Jean began to wave and turn away, Mary blurted out "So are you looking forward to the semester?"

Prouvaire was taken aback by the volume in Mary's voice. "Well, it feels weird going back to school after a while, especially in a new country, but I am looking forward to it. How about you?"

"Oh…yeah." Mary said hesitantly. She just could not find the right words to say to him and it was making her shake on the inside.

Isabelle was observing from the window, and huffed a deep breath as she returned inside.

"Monsieur Prouvaire? Are you doing anything tonight?" she asked. Mary looked horrified, and tried to signal Isabelle to stop talking.

"I have two lectures today, but otherwise I was going to go to dinner with Clara and Julien. Why?"

"Oh, well, Mary and I were thinking about having an evening out tonight, and we've never really had the time to get acquainted!"

Mary put her face in her hand.

"I…I suppose not." Jean said, confused. "Well, I don't see how my friends would object. It would help Julien a lot if he came to make new friends." He continued, smiling.

"Great! What's your address?" Isabelle asked bluntly.

Mary quietly took a pencil and whacked her forehead with it. _"Please just shut up, Isabelle!"_

Jean took out a piece of paper and wrote it down for Isabelle. "What time will you two arrive?"

Isabelle quickly snatched the paper and said "We will let you know later this afternoon! I must dash! I have an appointment with…a…with my music instructor. Professor…" and then she covered her mouth to mumble the name before running off.

Jean looked at Mary who just shrugged her shoulders. "I have a feeling I'm not going to like what she's up to."

Jean chuckled. "I have a feeling it must be something quite amusing."

Mary couldn't help but smile.

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Clara was startled by the loud pounding on her door. She quickly hustled over to open it to reveal a panting Isabelle. "Are you…Clara…Prouvaire's friend?!" Isabelle said in between breathes.

"Yes? Who's asking?" Clara asked bewildered.

"Long story…but I…need…your help!" Isabelle continued.

**Later that night…**

Jean had walked to a very nice restaurant that matched the address he was given by Isabelle after his second lecture. He was advised by Clara to wear his best suit, though why she did not say. It was rather strange of Clara he thought…especially since she told him she and Julien will meet up with him later.

He had walked through the front door.

"Good evening, sir? Need help finding a table?" the headwaiter had asked.

"Ah, _Oui._ I was looking for my friends. It is a reservation for five?"

The headwaiter looked at his reservation roster. He hummed hesitantly. "I don't see a reservation for a party of five…"

"Yoo-hoo!" a voice cried out. Jean turned to see Isabelle waving her over.

"Oh, never mind! There they are!" Jean said. The headwaiter nodded and escorted Jean to the table where Isabelle and Mary were seated.

"That was rather strange. The headwaiter said there was no reservation for a party of five…what will Clara and Julien say?"

"Indeed. What will they say?" Isabelle playfully asked.

Unable to take anymore, Mary stood up. "I must go and powder my nose. Isabelle, you look like you could use a little blush!" She glared at Isabelle.

Jean nodded as the two ladies got up from the table and retreated to the lavatory.

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Mary nearly shoved Isabelle into the Women's Restroom three seconds before Isabelle blurted out "Okay, okay! I admit this was a setup!"

"No!" Mary gasped sarcastically.

"Well, this wouldn't have happened if I continued to let you stand there like a statue! I'm just an innocent bystander…" Isabelle began. Mary rolled her eyes. "…but even I am getting annoyed with the romantic tension in the room."

Mary grumbled and walked over to the mirror. "But he hasn't tried to ask me out or anything. What if he doesn't fancy me?"

"Oh dear god, woman! How blind are you getting right now?! Don't you think I know what I'm doing? I've seen the way he lingers at you. But he's too afraid to do anything about it! If I didn't think that, I wouldn't have set this all up!"

Taking a deep breath, Mary continued to look at herself in the mirror, stroking her cheeks with her finger.

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Jean swigs his drink around a few times before Mary and Isabelle return.

"Monsieur Prouvaire…" Isabelle began as she sat down. "I've been persistently persuaded by Miss Mary, to…apologize." Jean looked at her confused.

"This whole get-together was simply a rouse to get you and Miss Mary to spend some time together… I was simply trying to play matchmaker. It isn't any of my business, and I do apologize for the inconvenience…"

Jean then turned his gaze over at Mary, and replied. " _Au contraire,_ Isabelle…I feel rather relieved. You saved me half of the pressure of approaching the honor myself." He smiled.

Mary's cheeks went a bright red instantly. Isabelle giggled and nodded to Mary before excusing herself. "Well, now that there's no more charades, I'll bid the two of you goodnight!"

Jean exhaled a deep breath. "Well…this evening is quite…new to me." Mary laughed. Jean continued to look into her light blue eyes. "So…Jean…" Mary began. "You said you tried to approach asking me out before?"

Jean sighed and leaned in close so he could speak softly. "If I am to be honest with you, Mary…I've been tossing the idea around in my head for quite some time."

Mary held her cheek with her fingertips. "You've wanted to for some time? Well…what stopped you?"

Jean closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and said "Because I wasn't sure if you were over Henri."

Mary's smile faded. "What?"

"I mean…it's only been a few months since the sinking…and…part of me…well…I myself was not really over losing Henri…and I felt like...if I had taken an interest in you, it felt as if I was betraying Henri's trust." Jean stumbled on his words, and silently kicked himself for saying those words.

Mary's heart sank. "Jean…he has not told you when he was alive?"

Jean looked up at her. "Told me what?"

Mary lowered her head. "Jean…Henri called it quits with me back in March. He felt it coming for some time…I would've thought he told you."

Jean's eyes widened. "Why?" he whispered.

"He didn't feel he was capable of handling a long-distance relationship. Actually, if we're both being fair, I felt the same way…so we talked, and we decided it was for the best…"

Jean rubbed his forehead to process everything she was saying. "But I don't understand…he was coming to America with us! What was the point of...?"

"He wasn't coming to America to stay for long…He brought with him some valuables that belonged to me…and to have one last farewell before we parted ways. He would return to Cherbourg; I would remain here…"

Jean's head began to hurt. "But…he told me that he was sailing with us to study with us…we…the four of us…Henri, Julien, and Joly…we were a pack. We would've stayed together!"

"Obviously…Henri must've kept a lot from the three of you, Jean." Mary continued. "He told me he was not himself when he was around the three of you. He was undergoing stress from schooling, his work, and our relationship on thin ice…he felt he needed some time for himself…"

Jean wanted to step outside and expel his upset stomach. "Henri…hated us?" "No!" Mary pleaded. "No of course not! He loved you all he truly did…but he was experiencing conflictions within himself, and he needed time and space…"

"Then why couldn't he just say so?!" Jean said, his voice cracking. "Why couldn't he just sit down with us while we were in Cherbourg, and just tell us that he did not wish to stay here in America?! What was the point of him sailing?! If he stayed in France…he would still be alive?! And here I was led to believe that he actually did care for us. But now I am not sure what to believe anymore!

Mary's eyes began to water as Jean stood up.

"I ask your forgiveness, Miss DuFontaine, here I was worried that I felt a sense of betrayal to Henri for taking a liking to you, but it appears that he is the one who betrayed me!"

"No Jean! Please do not think that way!"

"No. I am sorry, Mary. I know I can't speak ill of Henri now that he is dead…but his death was one that didn't need to happen over a simple case of miscommunication. He wouldn't consult with his closest friends, and now he's dead! What about Joly?! Was there something that he was hiding from us? Was his death easily preventable?!"

"Jean…" Mary said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No! I do not know what to believe anymore…I feel as if my whole life has been a lie! I cannot listen anymore. Miss DuFontaine, I do apologize, but it seems to me that Isabelle's efforts were fruitless. I bid you goodnight!"

Jean walked out of the restaurant, leaving a grief-stricken Mary to struggle to maintain her composure at her table.

**SEPTEMBER 10** **th** **, 1912**

**The Knickerbocker Hotel, New York NY**

Having taken a Pullman Express from Atlantic City to New York, Isaac Bell returned to his hotel to freshen up before returning to his New York Van Dorn Office.

He was greeted by his longtime friend and colleague, Archibald Abbott IV.

"This new and unidentified gang is quite the vicious little bunch." Abbott said.

"What happened now?" Bell asked.

Abbott had motioned to a young girl sitting on a chair against the wall. She held herself tight and her head was lowered. Abbott handed Bell an envelope containing the report the young girl had filed recently. Bell looked through it very carefully, before examining the girl.

"Miss Hacker?" Bell asked as he crouched down to meet the girl's eye level. "My name is Isaac Bell. I am the Chief Investigator here. Would you mind coming with me to my office where we can talk in private?"

Shaleigh Hacker slowly nodded.

Bell closed the door behind him as he approached his desk. "Alright, Miss Hacker I read your report, but, I'd like you to please…if you can…go into detail with regards to what happened."

Shaleigh shifted in her seat and grabbed her handkerchief to wipe her stained cheeks. "My brother…he was…he was ambushed by a pack of thugs…they held me at a distance while they tortured my poor brother. We've done no wrong! We're good and honest people, Mr. Bell! We didn't ask for this!"

"I understand, Miss Hacker. No one deserves this kind of treatment." Bell responded. "Go on."

"Well…while they were attacking them…there were four of these barbarians! One of them had approached me and…and…he told me…he said that he and his men were not to blame. And yet we've ruined them. Somehow, we've ruined them and now they are out to strike against us!" Shaleigh sniffled. "And we've never even met them before!"

"Miss Hacker…let me assure you that we are working hard to catch these criminals and bring them to justice. Now…I have two questions for you which could prove to be very helpful to me."

Shaleigh nodded, her head trembling as it was, before Bell got out his notebook.

"These assailants. Aside from the ordinary injuries they've inflicted upon your brother…have they done anything…unusual? Like…did they carve an initial into him or…brand him with something?"

She looked up in surprise. "Why…yes Mr. Bell, they did! They wouldn't dare tell me what it was, for they would kill me if I found out…not that I could make any sense of it…but they branded my brother with the letter 'C'. I didn't quite understand it, but I remember seeing in the papers something about a dangerous group of criminals…and this gesture was mentioned."

Bell's face barely changed when he put a checkmark on his one of two questions. "My last question, Miss Hacker. And I do hate to bring it up…but…were you and your brother aboard the _R.M.S. Titanic_?"

Shaleigh nearly broke down at the mention of the name. It took a good two minutes for her to compose herself.

"Aye…we were in Third Class. I got off in one of the last lifeboats…as did he."

Bell nodded, wrote down the second checkmark, put his notebook away and stood up.

"We will station a Van Dorn guard to protect you and your brother until the criminals are apprehended. I thank you for your information. It has proven to be very helpful!"

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Bell had met with Forrer in the Research Department.

"Well I couldn't find any connections the criminals could have between Haderlitz and Barbicon."

"We won't need to. We now know that the attackers have and continue to target the survivors of the _Titanic_ sinking. Each assaulted victim has been branded with the initial 'C'. Not only that, but Miss Hacker recalled that one of the attackers accused the survivors of ruining the gang. Somehow…the survivors have done or said something to give the attackers a motive to extract revenge. But not just a singled-out target. They somehow obtain information that leads them to other survivors…perhaps as practice before they move on to bigger targets. Now we just have to understand why." Bell deduced.

"Is it possible the letter 'C' has something to do with what the survivors have 'done'?" Forrer asked.

"We'd have to look at the potential scapegoats that were called out by survivors in the aftermath of the disaster." Bell said.

"Well, it can't be Ismay. God knows he's in enough of a pickle to begin with. Plus, he'd never stoop _that_ low…even if he did take a woman's spot in the boats." Forrer scoffed

"And it's certainly not the Duff Gordons. The wife became popular after the scandal, and would have more to lose if she were exposed as being behind this. Forrer…I need you to dig up the transcripts from the Inquiries. I want both the Senate and Board of Trade transcripts on the jump!"

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"How in the hell could you two have been so God Damned reckless?!" Claquesous shouted in rage at Brujon and Babet.

"We were supposed to go after one person. And here I find us getting in over our heads, and having killed two more survivors, and nearly beating a third to death. And now just when we've found the location of that Combeferre kid, you two idiots fowl it up by abducting the wrong bastard! And not only that, but you've _branded_ him with our sign! And now the Combeferres are on their guard!"

"But Boss! None of us had a picture of the kid! How were we supposed to know what he looked like!" Brujon interjected.

"But you also attacked more than we planned for! We weren't supposed to go after Haderlitz, Hacker or Barbicon!"

"What are you so hell bent on over this Combeferre kid for anyway? What did he do that was so eye-catching?" Gueulemer asked.

"I don't know, Gueulemer. All I know is I was handed that damned newspaper, and fifty dollars to not ask questions and go after the boy."

Babet looked at Claquesous dumbfounded. "You mean…someone was paying us to go specifically after Combeferre?"

"Yea, dummy! And now we've botched the whole thing because of this!"

"Who is the 'client' anyway?!" Gueulemer asked.

"I don't know. I thought he said something like…Anthony…or Adrian…or Andrew something!"

**A/N WHAAAAT?!**

**Lol I can't believe I ended another chapter with a cliffhanger! Seriously though are you enjoying this story so far?! I found it so exciting to include Isaac Bell into this. And did anyone notice the nod to "Titanic: Adventure Out of Time"?**

**I have to be honest, I'm getting a writers block, combined with school. So if you have any suggestions on how to continue these subplots, please send me a review or a PM and let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

**SEPTEMBER 5 th, 1912**

**Harvard University**

**Cambridge Massachusetts**

“Now your assignment this week will be to write an essay detailing your perspective on the Narrator giving away a key moment in the climax before the story even begins, and explain in detail if you think it works or does not work!” The professor concluded the lecture.

 

Jean Prouvaire closed his notebook and gathered his books together.

 

As soon as he opened the door to walk out of the classroom, he was startled by Clara and Julien.

 

“Outside. Now!” Clara said sternly.

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Jean was nearly shoved onto a sidewalk by Julien.

 

“I have met some men, Jean Prouvaire. Some of them were unkind. Some were downright rude. But none of them could amount to half of what you were that night!”

 

Jean’s heart dropped. But his rolling eyes gave away that he did not wish to talk about this. “Oh _merde_ , are you seriously going to bring up…”

 

“What did you do to her, Jean?!” Julien demanded. “Her friend Isabelle came to our flat this morning bewildered and outraged. She demanded to see you so she could rip your throat out!”

 

“Oh of course Isabelle would only tell you Mary’s side. Suddenly I am the bad guy and I have no say in what happened. This was completely set up. Mary and I did not ask for it.”

 

“But regardless, Mary came to Isabelle a complete sight. What did you do to her?!” Clara nearly shouted.

 

“We are seriously doing this now?” Prouvaire asked.

 

“Yes, Jean! We are! Now tell us what you did or said or so help me…”

 

“She and Henri broke up months ago!” Jean snapped. There was a stunned silence. “Did she tell you that, Julien?! Did she tell you that they called it quits before the sinking, or did you find out by accident too?!”

 

“What are you talking about?” Julien asked.

 

“The reason I stormed out was because I don’t know who I can trust anymore! And I wasn’t going to just come out and say it to you, Julien, because you still haven’t gotten over Joly’s death! Mary told me that Henri and her have broken up. He wasn’t even coming to America to stay! He was going to settle some affairs with her, then return back to France without even telling us. His death could’ve been avoided!” There were tears in Jean’s eyes.

 

Clara and Julien looked at each other. “Courfeyrac…was going back to France without us?” Julien asked.

 

Jean turned away. “She said he needed space…needed to work on himself. I don’t know…she made it seem like we weren’t good friends for him and…I felt like if he was honest with us…he could’ve been spared. Like if he just told us he needed space…if he didn’t feel obligated…

 

“I left the restaurant that night because I felt lost…like nothing made sense anymore…if he just stayed and never boarded that damned ship…or if Joly stayed with him!”

 

Clara slowly put a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “Jean…” she pulled him in for a hug.

 

Jean held her tight and sobbed into her shoulders.

 

“Jean…this is normal. We’ve never seen you grieve fully yet for your friends. This needed to happen. You’re in pain. Julien’s still in pain. Mary’s in pain. But you cannot take this out on her. She really does have a feeling for you. Please…we are all asking you…please give her a chance.”

 

“But my whole world is upside down, Clara! Like was our friendship just a lie or was there something more to this?!”

 

“Jean! Listen to me!” Julien grasped Jean’s shoulders. “What happened with Henri does not matter now! Okay! Obviously she liked you. A lot. Your friendship with Henri did not affect that. You need to stop focusing on what could’ve been, and start focusing on your future. And if you really believe you want a happy one, I think it starts with Mary!”

 

Jean couldn’t help but put his face in his hands. “Will she even forgive me?”

 

“Isabelle was very clear with us. She told us to tell you to get your _merde_ together and give her another chance. Otherwise she would’ve forbidden you from ever seeing her again.” Julien said.

 

Their conversation was interrupted by Clara clearing her throat. The two men turned around to see Mary approaching slowly.

 

“Mary…” Jean said, approaching her. “Hi…um…can we talk?”

 

Mary silently nodded, and the two walked away.

 

Julien and Clara looked at them as they walked away from them.

 

“It’ll be forgotten soon.” Julien commented.

 

“How do you know?” Clara asked.

 

“He’s too nice to hold a grudge, and she’s too in love with him to change her mind.”

 

Neither of them realized or acknowledged that they were both holding each other’s hands.

 

 

 

**SEPTEMBER 20 th, 1912**

**Cape May, NJ**

_Dearest Franklin,_

_I am very glad you’ve written to me with regards to what has happened. I understand why you didn’t send word to me as soon as you could. It must have been a very trying time for everyone._

_I must confess the news of James had been quite a shock for me. I’ve only known the two of you for a few years, but I’ve always considered the two of you like my own sons. So you can imagine how I reacted to his perishing. I had to hire an assistant while I could recuperate from the shock. But now I am faring better than I was before._

_I just want to offer my congratulations to you and your new bride on your marriage, and your expecting. It’s quite surreal to imagine all of this happening so quickly. But from what you’ve told me about your new wife, I am relieved to see you have found happiness and safety in each other. She’s a very lucky woman to have you. And I can tell just by the way you described her all the time, I know you are very lucky to have her._

_I do not expect a visit from you in England. I couldn’t live with myself if you still haven’t recovered from the tragedy and would never impose on you to even consider sailing back to England. If I can get time away perhaps I can come visit you. Please write to me if you decide on what to do. I would so much like to see you again. I feel as if my old life has become incomplete after everything that has happened._

_You are all in my thoughts and prayers. Please keep in touch. My sincerest regards,_

_Maximilian Lamarque_

 

Combeferre passed the letter to Eponine after he finished reading it.

 

She couldn’t help her smile. “You must’ve told him quite a lot about me.”

 

Combeferre playfully shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I must’ve gotten on everyone’s nerves with how badly I was in love with you.” He smiled.

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

“Yes? Well…have you cross-checked…I see. Well…yes. Thank you, Forrer.” Abbott said before hanging up the telephone.

 

Bell entered their office before Abbott took out his notepad.

 

“I just got off the phone with Forrer. He’s confirmed a potential link with the relatives of these victims. The survivors of the _Titanic_ did at one point, testify against the crew members of the _S.S. Californian_.”

 

“The ship that was within 10-15 miles of the _Titanic_ , but made no effort to save her passengers?” Bell asked.

 

“Those are the allegations. And the survivors that fell victim to the vicious gang attacks were in support of said allegations, and testified that they did in fact see lights on the horizon. Whether or not they were the _Californian_ ’s did not seem to matter to the Inquiry. The Crew was dealt with severely, and therefore, has been branded, so to speak.” Abbott said.

 

Bell stroked his chin. “But wait…something does not add up.” And then he proceeded to the telephone and rotated the rotary and held the ear piece to his ear. “Connect me with the Carson residence in Cape May.”

 

Abbott picked up the other telephone while Bell was on hold. “Forrer, it’s Abbott again. I need a full roster list of crewmembers who were aboard the Leyland Liner _S.S. Californian_ at the time of the _Titanic_ sinking. I need it on the jump!”

 

“Hello, Mr. Combeferre? This is Bell. How are you today?”

 

_“I am fine, thanks for asking. I’ve received word from my old landlord.”_

“That’s good to hear. Listen, I have a question with regards to the United States Inquiry to the sinking.”

 

There was a pause before “ _…yes?_ ”

 

“Did you, or your wife or her brother testify against any allegations made against a small freighter named the _S.S. Californian_?”

 

“ _No…but I wish I did. We had to be excused early since my wife fell ill not too long afterwards. Maybe they discussed the issue after we left?_ ”

 

“Perhaps. We’re just trying to find a link between that and the gang attacks. We may have a lead.”

 

“ _Oh good! The sooner this matter is put to rest the sooner we can fully heal. It’s bad enough that ship never made any effort to save us, but if these incidents are related to that, it will be too much for us._ ”

 

“Rest assured, Mr. Combeferre, we will never give up. Never. I will contact you later once I have more information, and we will go from there.”

 

“ _Great! Thank you so much!_ ”

 

Bell hung up.

 

“What was it you needed to confirm?” Abbott asked.

 

“Something was nagging in my mind that there’s one piece of the puzzle that does not fit…at least not yet anyway. Combeferre had said that neither he nor anyone in his party had testified against the _Californian_ crew.”

 

“So?” Abbott asked.

 

“So…why would he still be targeted?”

 

“Well I sent a request for the crew roster of the _Californian_. Once I have that, we should search through the lists and see if we can detect any criminal backgrounds, then we can narrow down our search.”

 

Bell nodded.

 

 

 

**October 1 st, 1912**

**Washington D.C.**

“When is it going to end?!” a woman suffragette cried out.

 

“When are we going to live?!” Another woman shouted.

“Something’s got to happen now!” a third said.

 

“Something’s got to give!” A fourth replied.

 

A large group of Suffragettes gathered around in a circle, where Cornelia Enjolras stood on a large wooden crate and began waving her fist in the air. “Where are the leaders of the land?! Where are the swells who run this show?”

 

She then motioned for Cosette to stand up with her. Cosette looked to her husband Marius for assurance, to which he nodded. She stood up with Cornelia and shouted “With all of the anger in the land; how long before the judgement day? How long before we cut the fat ones down to size?”

 

“How long before the barricades arise?!” Cornelia bellowed, followed by an uproarious cheer from the crowd.

 

This threw Cosette and Marius by surprise. They’ve visited and observed Cornelia’s demonstrations and tactics for a few weeks now, but they never expected things to resort to using barricades. They were used to marches and picket signs.

 

The suffragette society that Cornelia was leader of had already accepted Darcy Grantaire as part of the group as he showcased his posters perfectly for them. It was a little harder to get around Marius but he proved to them he was indeed for their cause.

 

“The time is here!” Cornelia declared. “Let us welcome it gladly with courage and cheer!”

 

Grantaire raised up his illustrated picket sign. “Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our hearts!”

 

“But a jubilant shout; they will come one and all!” Cosette followed.

 

Cornelia began to lead the group to march the street and began to say “They will come when we…”

 

Suddenly, whistles started blaring nearby.

 

Marius grabbed Cosette’s hand as he saw thirty policemen charge the crowd.

 

“Votes for women! To the barricades!” Cornelia shouted as she and Grantaire led the crowd away from the police.

 

Marius had managed to get Cosette to safety on a side street, as they observed the police chasing down the women suffragettes, having caught and arrested a few strays.

 

“Marius, what are you doing? You’re not dragging me away from this are you?”

 

Marius looked her in the eye and said “No of course not. Just trying to keep you out of harm’s way.”

 

Cosette’s face began to grow dark. “What about them? They are just as important as I am. Are you going to let them be caught?!”

 

Marius made the mistake of hesitating to answer.

 

“If you truly cared about my cause, you would let me risk safety to fight for it.”

 

“Cosette I do care. I just don’t want you to…” Marius began.

 

“Don’t want me to do what? Make a fool of myself?” Cosette yanked her hand away from Marius as she ran off to join the others.

 

“No…” Marius said to himself. “I don’t want you to get hurt!”

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

The Suffragettes chose a cull de sac that was in full view of the busiest streets of Washington D.C.

Cosette, Cornelia and Grantaire were finishing up building their barricade of tables, chairs, and parked motor cars. The other women were waving their flags, banners, and picket signs.

“Now we pledge ourselves to hold this barricade!” the women suffragettes chanted.

 

“Let them come in their legions and they will be met!” Cosette bellowed as she held her picket sign.

 

“Have faith in yourselves and do not be afraid!” Cornelia said as she positioned an American flag in a pole on the barricade.

 

“Let’s give ‘em a screwing they’ll never forget!” Grantaire shouted.

 

“Language, Mr. Grantaire!” Cornelia scoffed. Grantaire couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

 

“Miss Enjolras!” A fellow suffragette called out. “The police are here!”

 

She pointed to a line of ten policemen lined up facing the barricade.

 

“You at the barricades listen to this!” The Sergeant shouted. “No one is coming to help you to fight!”

 

“I know that man!” A suffragette pointed out. “That’s Sgt. Bambatois!”

 

“I’ve heard of him…” Cornelia muttered. “The crooked cop who’s been having his way with women and getting away with it.”

 

She responded by picking up her flag, climbing to the top of the barricade and waving it for everyone to see.

 

“The Devil with your warnings, and the Devil with your lies! You will see! The People will rise!”

 

Bambatois grew red with anger. “Disperse immediately, vermin! Or we will have to use force!”

 

“None of us are interested in your ideas of force, Sergeant Bimbo!” Cosette challenged.

 

“I am warning you! You whores have no chance! No chance at all! Give up now and disperse!”

 

“We will disperse when we have the say to!” Cornelia declared.

 

That did it for Bambatois. He blew his whistle hard and gave his squad the order to rush the barricade. His squad of nine men readied their nightsticks, and marched towards the cull de sac.

 

“Now, Sisters! NOW” Cornelia shouted.

 

The Suffragettes responded by picking up tomatoes they had in baskets and lunging them at the policemen. One officer took a tomato to the face and was temporarily blinded. Another had his helmet knocked off. But this did not stop the riot squad from advancing.

 

One officer was climbing on top of the barricade, hovering over Cosette. He was about to lunge for her when suddenly he felt himself yanked back by someone.

 

“Marius!?!” Cosette yelled.

 

Marius climbed over the barricade and embraced his wife. “What are you doing here?!” Cosette demanded.

 

“I’m here because I believe in your cause. And if both of us are arrested and ashamed, so be it! There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

 

Cosette’s smile at this quickly vanished as she saw behind Marius.

 

Bambatois sprinted towards the two of them and clubbed Marius on the head, knocking him out cold.

 

Grantaire responded by grabbing Cornelia’s flagpole and whacking Bambatois in the face with it. He took the one end and poked Bambatois in the stomach several times before incapacitating the attacker, rendering him helpless for a few moments.

 

As the officers breached the barricades, they came across the Irishman pointing their Sergeant’s gun to his head. “Disperse immediately! Get away from here, or so help me I will blow this bugger’s head off!”

 

“You do that, and you’ll get the chair for murder and anarchy!” One of the officers threatened.

 

Grantaire refused to let go of his captive. “Ay, now it appears we’ve reached some sort of compromise!” He signaled for a Suffragette to go to a crate, and get some rope that was laying around. While she worked on binding Bambatois, Grantaire continued to speak with the gun pointed to the Sergeant’s head.

 

“Now let me make myself clear! You will not go to your chief of police. You will march directly to the White House, and you will demand an audience between us and the President. Any failed attempts mean another added bruise on this bastard’s face. Try anything stupid, and I’ll debate on what next damages his brain. My fist, or my bullet! Now piss off! And tell the other coppers what you saw!”

 

The policemen quickly sprinted back over the barricades running off in different directions.

 

Some of the suffragettes cheered while others were shocked at the violent nature of Grantaire’s demands.

 

“Put him in the corner.” He told a couple of women.

 

As he retreated to a spot in the back of the cull de sac, he was approached by Cornelia.

 

“I had hoped to warn you before all of this Miss Enjolras. I am a man of action. Not words. When I see that words fail to make demands, there is nothing left to do but to take action.” He took a deep sigh. “Ay Miss Cornelia Enjolras…I fear I may have endangered your cause…but I could not stand to let them walk over the lot of you one more minute and…”

 

Cornelia interrupted him by kissing him chastely on the lips. She pulled back, shocked, confused, and quickly straightened herself up before checking on the status of the other women.

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

“Where...where am I?” Marius mumbled.

 

“Just rest, darling.” Cosette whispered.

 

Some of the women bandaged Marius’s head and had him sit up against a wall. Cosette gripped Marius’s hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Marius…this is my fault…if I listened to you in the first place you wouldn’t be hurt.” Her eyes began to water.

 

“Shh…” Marius said in a soothing voice. “Do not fret over me…I would’ve preferred it to be me instead of you. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you get hurt.”

 

Two tears rolled down Cosette’s cheeks. “I should be doing the same for you…oh my poor darling…we’ve only been married nearly six months and already you’ve suffered head trauma on my account!”

 

Marius chuckled lightly. “I guess people are wrong with what they say about love.”

 

Cosette looked at him confused.

 

“People do not lose their heads when they’re in love; they are simply beaten to a pulp!”

 

Cosette couldn’t help her giggle before she bent down to kiss Marius.

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Night began to fall on the barricade. Grantaire was keeping watch, waiting for any hints of trouble.

 

That was when Cornelia walked up to him.

 

“Mr. Grantaire…”

 

“Miss Enjolras…”

 

“I just wanted to say…that was a brave thing you did for our cause.” Cornelia said.

 

Grantaire scoffed. “I thought I were to be scorned for committing a crime by taking a copper hostage!”

 

“But so far we have not seen any policemen coming to claim him. I never would’ve thought to take that kind of action. You must feel very strongly about our cause.”

 

Grantaire looked at her. “I do. I do not know if it’s the polluted industrial air, or if I’ve been hanging around you women too long…” Cornelia shoved him in the arm. “…or maybe I can’t seem to find anything else to believe in.”

 

“Me friend from Ireland…Bahorel O’Malley…Bless his drowned soul. He always used to tell me to pick me battles, he did. He always tried to get me out of trouble that I would usually cause. I sometimes wonder why he used to put up with me when he did.

 

“Before the _Titanic_ …I used to pick fights for no reason. Now I’ll admit I did fight regarding topics that were too hot for an Irishman. But I would ramble and rant, and have a drunken slur all the while. But I never had a cause and truly believed in it and stuck with it. Bahorel made me aware of that every chance he could.

 

“And then…when the ship sank, and I had lost me good friend O’Malley…I realized that I had no one. No one to stop me from running out, and picking fights and getting into trouble. And that thing with the English cur and his paycheck, that gave me something to fight for with direction. I felt like I finally found me purpose in life. To stand up for what is right. And right now…I feel that my place is here…fighting for your right to vote!”

 

Cornelia looked at him with admiration. “Do you truly believe in our cause?” she asked.

 

Grantaire stared into her eyes. “More than that…I believe in you.”

 

Cornelia held Grantaire’s cheek in admiration. “Sisters!” She called out to the other suffragettes.

 

“I know we are here to fight for the Rights of Women everywhere, but I would just like to take this moment and appreciate the two men that went above and beyond their call of duty today. One of them believes in the safety and well-being of all of us. The other one taught me to believe that not all men are the same. Months ago, I would’ve found this man to be insufferable, stubborn, cynical, arrogant, an insensitive drunk…”

 

Grantaire cleared his throat.

 

“…sorry. My point is, I now know he has a heart of gold. I know that many of you find that hard to believe in men today. But I want you to understand that the real evil power lies in those that are in control. I promise you all. When we win our rights, there will be equality for everyone!”

 

The Suffragettes cheered on…shortly followed by a whistle. The women approached the barricade.

 

There was a gentleman in a top hat and overcoat. He was seen surrounded by several policemen.

 

“Good evening, ladies. I request an audience with the leader of this organization.”

 

Cornelia was about to speak before Grantaire cut her off. “Are you the President?”

 

“I am afraid not, sir. I am one of his representatives. The President sends his respects to the ladies…”

 

“The deal was we speak to the President! You better explain yourself quick or the Sergeant gets another black eye!” Grantaire challenged.

 

The Representative held up his hand. “If you would please withdraw your temper, good sir, I request to have an audience with the organization’s leader. Somewhere on middle ground, perhaps?”

 

“Right where we are, is good enough. What you need to say to me, you can say in front of my Sisters. We are all in this together.”

 

The Representative sighed. “Very well.” He took off his hat and introduced himself. “My name is Derrick Davis. I am a member of President Taft’s cabinet. I am here to inform you that as this is an election year, it will be difficult for the President to focus specifically on your terms. That is not to say that he has disregarded them entirely. The chances of a re-election for him are slim, to be frank. I am telling you this because we do not wish for your organization to make demands on ears that may not have the power to listen much longer.

 

“I’ve read the reports made against the Sergeant Bambatois. I can assure you he will be dealt with harshly. In the meantime, I offer a simple proposition.

 

“We recognize your cause. We see how strongly you believe in your cause. It is a lively topic in Congress. We have not dismissed your demands. It is still an active discussion. I will put in the requisition myself to ensure that we encounter no more incidents that involve the police. Violence is not the answer and I am a firm believer in that.”

 

“What are your terms?” Cornelia asked.

 

“That your organization, and the organizations around you, do not necessarily disperse; but instead choose a more peaceful approach until things have simmered down after the election. I will reserve a spot in Washington D.C. of _your_ choosing. There, you will have as many peaceful demonstrations as you want, with no danger of police interruptions. In return, I simply ask that no one resort to violence, be it the Suffragettes or Law Enforcement. I await your response?” Davis paused for reply.

 

Cornelia looked at her fellow suffragettes. She then gazed over at Cosette as she was tending to Marius’s bruise. She then turned to Davis. “I have one note to add to this.”

 

“Name it.”

 

“My Sisters are strong and independent thinkers. I cannot promise that what we say in our spot can stay in our spot. If any drastic action takes place outside this spot, our organization cannot be held accountable. I can only control my group within its limits.”

 

“I believe that is fair. Just as long as no drastic action is taken within approval of the organization, you are free to speak out whatever points you wish addressed. Do we reach a compromise?”

 

“And…” Cornelia added. “We must observe this spot first, and decide if it fits our criteria.”

 

“That can be arranged. Do you agree to our terms?” Davis asked.

 

Cornelia sighed, then turned back to her sisters. “What say you, my Sisters? We are promised a spot of our own, where we can speak our minds at our pleasure. How do does the society vote?”

 

Most of the women cheered.

 

Davis shooed away the policemen to allow the suffragettes safe passage from the barricade. When everyone had cleared, the police began dismantling the barricade.

 

“Come on, Marius. Let us get you home.”

 

“No. What about the cause? Will they pick a spot tonight?”

 

“We shall congregate again here tomorrow afternoon. From there we will proceed to this spot and make a decision. Go home and rest. You’ve done enough.” Cornelia said.

 

As they were being led to a taxi, Cosette kissed Marius on the lips and whispered “Thanks anyway.” She smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

**OCTOBER 15 th, 1912**

**Cape May, NJ**

Combeferre and Eponine walked downstairs into the parlor. They saw Jack sitting with Deena on the couch; he had his arm in a sling.

 

“It’s nice to see you finally recovering, Jack. You’re looking well.” Combeferre said.

 

Jack looked at him with sadness in his eyes. “I wish I could say the same for you, Frank.”

 

Eponine struggled to sit on the comfy chair opposite Jack. “What do you mean?” She asked, concerned.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jack asked. “Franklin here has not been getting enough sleep. I can see it in his eyes.”

 

Eponine knew it was true. Combeferre had bags under his eyes. He tried his best in the past few days to brush it off. But there was no way he was going to get out of it this time.

 

He sighed and asked “Isn’t it obvious?”

 

Deena nodded. “The Van Dorns haven’t had any leads. I know it’s frustrating…I’m certainly worried for all of us.”

 

“I am too…” Frank replied. He glanced over at Eponine who was holding her belly. “I’m worried now more than ever…”

 

They all sat in silence for a few minutes before Jack spoke up.

 

“Where are your other friends from the _Titanic_? The ones who were with us from the Inquiry?”

 

“Before we boarded the train, they said they were going to Massachusetts to study at Harvard. Why?”

 

“Do you think it’s possible to take Deena, Eponine and Gavroche with you to stay with them? The attackers know where we are but if you relocate, they wouldn’t have a clue as to where to find you.”

 

“Out of the question, Jack. We are not leaving you here by yourself! Not again!”

 

“We have the Van Dorns patrolling our house and providing us escort wherever we go. It’s not like I will be alone.”

 

“All the same, Jack, it’s too dangerous. Too much could happen in the interim. It could take months for Mr. Bell to catch these criminals.” Deena insisted.

 

“She’s right…” Frank began. “Bell’s going to need all the help he can get.” Deena looked at him confused. “That’s not what I was talking about…”

 

“I will send a wire to Bell immediately. He will guarantee safe passage for you, Eponine and Gavroche out of New Jersey and into the care of our friends.”

 

“What?” Eponine asked, bewildered. “What about you?”

 

“I’ll stay here with Jack. As long as the three of you are not in danger, I should be able to focus enough to help Mr. Bell in any way I can.”

 

“But Frank, darling…”

 

“No, ‘Ponine. I’ve been here behaving like I’m some sort of mentally disturbed patient all because of what happened on the _Titanic_. Nothing I do or say can bring those we lost back. It’s time for me to just accept that.

 

“Mr. Bell has made a very good observation. Jack was attacked by a gang of vicious thugs. Their previous targets were all _Titanic_ survivors. I don’t know how, but somehow…someway, there is a link between the sinking, and these gang attacks. Any information I can give Mr. Bell could be of the utmost importance!”

 

“But why can’t you provide information from Massachusetts?!” Eponine urged.

 

“Mr. Bell has set up his headquarters here so that we can stay in close contact in the event of any leads or emergencies occurring. One of us has to stay behind and remain in touch at a close proximity. Jack can’t go because he’s still recovering. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him.”

 

Eponine struggled to stand up. “Frank…a word with you. Please!”

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Frank and Eponine walked out to the kitchen out of earshot. “Why are you doing this, Frank?!” Eponine insisted.

 

“I want you safe, Eponine. Don’t you understand that?” Frank pleaded.

 

“You want to not worry about me. What about me in Massachusetts worrying about you?!”

 

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Eponine.” Frank said.

 

There were tears in Eponine’s eyes. “That’s somewhat close to what my mother and father last said to me before we became separated, and I never saw them again!”

 

Frank understood where she was coming from. He knew she had gone through too much to have the thought of losing him overwhelm her. He sat Eponine down on a chair and he knelt down to her.

 

“My darling…I love you. More than life itself. I made a vow to you that night. That I was never going to lose you again. Never mind the fact that I was blind in the water with no glasses. Never mind the fact that I was freezing to the point of insanity. Nothing else in the world mattered to me more than to make sure I kept you safe. I may not have felt like I was doing much, since you were the one who dragged me to the boat. But I wouldn’t have cared if I had frozen to death, if it meant making sure you were safe…”

 

“Please. Don’t talk like that.” Eponine held his face in her hands, wiping away his single tear.

 

He wiped her several tears as he continued.

 

“Nothing made me happier in the world than the day I married you. And the only way that can be topped is the day that our first child will be born.” He rubbed her belly and kissed it tenderly.

 

“But you must understand. This is why I must insist you take the trip to Massachusetts. If it were only you and Gavroche, I’d say to hell with it and we’d brave the dangers together. I know you wouldn’t budge anyway.

 

“But our unborn child, is the reason I worry more than anyone else. If you stay, and those crooks are somewhere around, you not only endanger yourself…which I doubt my heart could take…but you also endanger the life of our family. I couldn’t imagine anything happening to it now. Therefore, I ask you to go to Massachusetts not just for your sake and Gavroche, but for the sake of the child’s. Do this for my legacy. That’s all I ask.”

 

Eponine sniffled as she kissed him lightly on the forehead. Then she chuckled. “What?” Frank asked.

 

“I was just thinking back when we were in school… ‘tis funny now that I think of it. We were in class and they were teaching us about what it is like to be a responsible adult. I laughed at the idea during recess. I said it were to be a cold day in hell before I consider myself a responsible adult.”

 

Frank smiled. “Ah yes…I remember that day.” Eponine looked into his eyes. “That was the day I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was in love with you.”

 

Eponine wasn’t sure if it was the pregnant hormones or if it was her heart doing somersaults that led to her kissing Frank passionately on the lips.

 

When she pulled away, she had that mischievous grin on her face. “It could be months before I am in your arms again.”

 

Immediately taking the hint, he swooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs, past Jack and Deena.

 

“Oh god…” Jack sighed.

 

“What?” Deena asked.

 

“It just dawned on me. Eponine never has nightmares!” Jack said, smacking his face with his good hand.

 

“So?”

 

“I always wondered why she would scream so loudly some nights.”

 

Deena covered her face to hide her blush.

 

 

**ONE WEEK LATER…**

The group had arrived at the train station. They had met with Isaac Bell, who had graciously detached four Van Dorn body guards to safely escort and protect the women and Gavroche.

 

A telegram was sent a week prior to Julien, Clara and Jean alerting them of the situation. They were more than happy to comply.

 

Combeferre hugged Gavroche tight and tussled his hair. “You’ve got a big responsibility now, Gavroche. I leave these two ladies in your care. Think you can do that for me?”

 

Gavroche shrugged his shoulders. “I used to like not having responsibilities. But I’ll do it for me brother!” He nudged Combeferre on the arm, before yanking his shirt collar to bring him in close to his face. “But you’re not to do anything stupid while we’re away. Or you’ll have _me_ to answer for instead of whoever these hooligans are!”

 

“Okay, I won’t.” Combeferre smiled. Had he not been married to Eponine he would’ve been intimidated by Gavroche’s threats a lot more than he let on.

 

“I’m serious. Do not do this for me. Do this for Eponine. She’s all I’ve got. You know that.”

 

Thinking of his parents and Azelma, Combeferre nodded. “You’re right. That’s why I’m counting on you to take great care of them.”

 

Frank then stood up to embrace Eponine.

 

“As soon as all of this is resolved, I’ll come for you.” He said to her.

 

Eponine smiled, her eyes glistening. “Not if I come back for you first!” She teased.

 

The two of them laughed. They stood there for a minute before the train’s whistle blew.

 

Frank kissed Eponine one last time before she rushed to board the train with Deena and Gavroche.

 

“I’ll see you soon.” Frank said.

 

Eponine held onto the side of the door, her gaze never leaving Frank as he shrunk in the distance.

 

Deena put her hand on Eponine’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked.

 

Eponine shook her head. “I’ve not spent a single day apart from him, since that day we met again at Queenstown….”

 

Deena pulled her in for a hug.

 

 

 

**A/N: OMG I am so sorry for the delay this took me the longest to complete. Side Note I am sorry for the Barricade sequence. Not just for how short it seemed but I have this strange nagging feeling I might have offended someone by how quickly the resolution came to take place? I am just going to come out and say that I am not good at writing conflicts or climaxes that well. The sinking of the _Titanic_ was easier for me to do because that was second nature to me. But being creative is a lot harder than it seems! **

**Anyway, enough ranting, I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. Please leave a review on what you think so far and hopefully we’ll have something happening soon! Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**OCTOBER 25 th, 1912**

**The Knickerbocker Hotel, New York NY**

Bell was shifting through his paperwork. Every so often, he’d turn his head to catch Abbott looking at him. After about twenty minutes of this Bell dropped his paperwork and said “Can I help you?”

 

“Shh! Hold still!” Abbott replied. He then continued to stare at Bell for a good few seconds. As soon as Bell blinked, Abbott clapped his hands in rejoice!

 

“Ha! I just won twenty-five dollars!”

 

“Do I even want to know?” Bell asked.

 

“Oh, sorry Isaac. I just had a wager with Forrer and Edwards that I couldn’t get you to close your eyes for at least five minutes! And after that last blink…” Abbott pulled out a tally sheet on his notebook. “That adds up a total of five minutes that your eyelids have made contact with each other.” He then cleared his throat. “Of course, we won’t go into detail about the lack of consecutiveness with the others but still!”

 

“Archie, I appreciate your level of seriousness in this particular case.” Bell said, hardly laughing at all. Abbott sighed. “I know, Bell. I get it. This case is getting on everyone’s nerves. But week after week we’re getting new leads!”

 

“Yeah, new leads that tell us _what_ to look for, but nowhere to look for it! The local authorities in Cape May have swept the entire Provence, and they came up empty handed! These crooks are too slippery for my liking.”

 

“Isaac…you’ve been on this case for several days now with little or no sleep at all. At least just go up to your suite and at least take a half an hour kip or something!” Abbott insisted. “The Boss would agree with me.”

 

Bell sighed in defeat. Joseph Van Dorn was the one who sent him off on holiday in Cape May to begin with. He got up from his chair and declared “Telephone my room no later than thirty minutes!”

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Marion was reading the newspaper Bell had saved as part of his research.

 

When Isaac entered the room, she quickly got up. “Oh I’m sorry Isaac. I knew this case was getting to you. I wanted to see if I could help in any way possible.”

 

He responded by kissing her tenderly. “I couldn’t ever be mad at you for helping. I’ve been ordered to have a kip for a few moments.” He sighed as he laid down on the bed. “Find anything?” He asked.

 

Marion shook her head. “No. Just this wedding article on Franklin and Eponine. I must confess I am rather envious of how beautiful she looks here.” Marion said, pointing to the wedding photo that was featured in the article.

 

As she sat on the edge of the bed next to Isaac, he rubbed her arm tenderly. “Rest assured, my dear. When we are married you will look twice as beautiful as her.”

 

“Wait…” Marion interrupted. “Franklin…Combeferre?”

 

Bell sat up. “You know him?”

 

“I’ve heard of the name, but I never knew it was spelt this way before.” Marion answered.

 

Bell raced for his notebook. “Where have you heard the name before?!”

 

Marion held his hands together and put the notebook away. “Give me at least ten minutes of you resting, and I will tell you what I know.”

 

Bell conceived. “You know…you’re too beautiful for me to lecture you for withholding information from private investigations!” And with that he begrudgingly lied down and closed his eyes.

 

Ten minutes later on the dot, Bell got up and asked Marion what she knew.

 

“I’ve heard of a man in his mid-thirties that also went by the name of Combeferre. I remember in Francisco during the Earthquake…there were allegations against this man for staging and conducting several gang-related lootings in the ruins. Some say he coordinated several shootouts with police officers…When the riot squads cleared the way, he had vanished. No trace of his body. They presumed him dead.”

 

“Hmm…” Bell thought. “This might be interesting. I wonder if Franklin knows.”

 

“It could explain why he’s never brought up this stranger. From what you’ve told me, Franklin seems like a sweet young man.”

 

Bell grabbed Marion’s face and kissed her passionately. “I may move you from Director to a starting position of Chief-Chief Investigator!” And he hurried out of the room.

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

 

 

Combeferre was busy at the typewriter at his office, when his telephone rang. He picked it up.

 

“Western Union, this is Franklin speaking. How may I help you?” He asked.

 

_“Good Afternoon, Frank. It’s Bell again. I have a question with regards to your family lineage if it is alright to talk?”_

Combeferre’s heart sank. His parents were dead for years, so he knew there was only one-person Bell could be referring to.

 

“Yes?” He asked slowly.

 

_“Do you or did you have a relative living here in the United States?”_

 

“…Yes. My older brother, Andrew.”

 

 _“You seem quite hesitant to speak of him_. _”_

 

“To be honest, Mr. Bell, I did not care for him. He was ruthless to me and our parents. He was never around even when my father died. He was here in the States.”

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

_“That explains his presence at the Great Earthquake.”_ Bell thought to himself. “And had he returned to England at one point?”

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

“Yes. It was right before my mother passed on. When she did, he took everything in the will, including that which belonged to me. May I ask why you are questioning me about him? I thought I stayed to help you track a gang of brutes?”

 

 _“All in good time, Mr. Combeferre. I need all the information I can get. I promise you, we will resolve this case._ ”

 

Frank glanced over to the picture frame that held the picture of him and Eponine on their wedding day. He stroked the glass that was hovering over Eponine’s face. “I do hope you can, Mr. Bell. I do hope you can.”

 

And with that, Bell thanked him for his time and hung up.

 

Peter Gervais could see from a distance the sadness in Frank’s eyes. He was made aware of the situation since Frank felt he could be trusted.

 

“You miss her a lot. Don’t you?” He couldn’t help but ask. He then cursed himself for prying. “Sorry, sir.”

 

“No it’s fine, Peter. And yes I do miss her. I miss her something terrible…” He then laughed softly. “I was just thinking…over six months ago I never would have imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be seeing her again…let alone be building my life with her together.”

 

“Well, if it’s alright to say, sir. You did the right thing by sending her out of harm’s way. Do you sleep well at night knowing she’s safe?”

 

Combeferre looked at Peter with sadness in his eyes and shook his head.

 

“No? But, Mr. Combeferre, I would’ve thought…”

 

“Me too, Peter. But the fly in the buttermilk is that I can’t sleep well because she’s not there beside me. I would’ve thought I’d feel better knowing she is not in danger but I don’t know…It’s only been slightly over a week since she boarded that train…Am I behaving irrationally?”

 

The young intern sighed and walked over and grabbed a chair next to Combeferre.

 

“Mr. Combeferre, sir. I am only sixteen years old. I don’t know enough about life, business, family, or love. I never know enough to judge. I can only observe.

 

“And from what I’ve observed, I would say that I would consider you to be foolish to not miss her. Again, I apologize for speaking bluntly.

 

“But you two have created a bond…when…when the ship went down. And I do not mean because the two of you were in love. I mean you created a bond when you both survived the terrible ordeal of that night. And I know this because I have friends who also survived the _Titanic_. They knew me since last year, but never even met each other. After the sinking, they became close friends, practically inseparable.

 

“You and Mrs. Combeferre, you have a bond. You are each other’s support. You need her just as much as she needs you. Maybe she is just as miserable as you feel. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. Never forget that, Mr. Combeferre. Never forget that.”

 

Frank stared at Peter with amazement in his eyes. He then stood up and walked over to the manager’s office, beckoning for Peter to follow him.

 

He knocked on the door and opened to speak to the manager.

 

“Hello, Mr. Trout. I would like to put in a requisition to have this young boy dismissed from his internship here.”

 

Peter’s heart sank. Trout nearly spat out his coffee. “I beg your pardon…”

 

“…and instead…” Combeferre continued. “I want you to hire him as my personal assistant. Paid. With a bonus.”

 

Trout, for his part, scoffed. “You think you can just waltz in here and make demands from me like that?”

 

Franklin smiled, and pulled out an envelope from his pocket. “Unfortunately, for you Mr. Trout…the Scrubber staff had found this lying on the floor in your office last night. It’s your latest invoice from the Marconi Company and…tsk tsk tsk. They are devastatingly undercharging you!”

 

Trout’s face flushed. Combeferre continued. “So either you take the extra $500 a month that you’ve been saving, and put it into Peter’s salary. Or Mr. Marconi gets a calling card from me, and that alone will double your fees.”

 

The manager sighed. He scribbled away on some documents before looking back up at Peter. “Good luck with this one! You’ll need it.”

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

When Peter and Combeferre stepped out of the office, Peter grabbed Frank’s hand and shook it vigorously. “Thank you so much, Mr. Combeferre! I don’t know what to say!”

 

“Just keep being yourself, Peter. I needed that pep talk. I may need a lot more of it!” Combeferre replied.

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

It was ten minutes after five o’clock when Combeferre and Peter walked out of the office.

 

“Hmm…that’s funny.” Combeferre said out loud.

 

“What?” Peter asked.

 

“I could’ve sworn I left my car here.” Combeferre pointed to an empty spot in the parking lot.

 

No sooner had he said that, then he heard a soft _THUD_ behind him. Frank turned around quickly to see Peter fall to the ground. Frank’s eyes froze with fear as two brutish and rogue men had leapt out behind Peter, coming straight for Combeferre.

 

Combeferre turned to run the other direction but was soon halted by two more tough looking men.

 

“Franklin Combeferre?”

 

Frank’s eyes widened. These must be the thugs Mr. Bell was chasing.

 

In one fluid motion, he dodged the two men in front of him and slipped past them as he sprinted towards the emergency meeting place.

 

It was under Isaac’s orders that should any emergencies arrive, the Van Dorns that escort Combeferre to work and home were to meet him at a secret spot around the corner of the Western Union building.

 

Frank rushed over to the spot as quickly as he could…only to have his heart drop.

 

The two Van Dorns were both lying face up, each with a bullet hole to the forehead.

 

“Eponine!” Frank cried to himself before he was clubbed over the back of the head with a crowbar.

 

**OCTOBER 26 th, 1912**

**Cambridge, Massachusetts**

It may have been an unexpected pleasant surprise, but it was still a pleasant surprise. Clara was excited to see Eponine getting on in her expectancy. When Eponine, Gavroche and Combeferre left with the Carsons from New York back in April, the farewells were too rushed, considering the experience they all went through. And the newcomers got along well with Mary, whom with Jean was developing a very strong bond by now.

 

So Jean, Julien, and Gavroche were able to obtain a room across the hall, and the girls were set up in their apartment.

 

“Have you decided on names yet?” Clara asked with anticipation.

 

“No…that is something I’ve yet to discuss with my husband.” Eponine responded with a beaming face.

 

“That’s the third time you’ve addressed him as your husband.” Mary commented.

 

Eponine couldn’t help her laugh. “Maybe I just like the way it sounds.”

 

The girls’ laughter was shortly interrupted by the telephone ringing.

 

Clara stood up to answer it. “Musichetta Residence?”

 

Eponine turned to Deena. “I certainly hope that’s him. I’m not so sure I could stand being apart from him much longer.”

 

“Uh, no Mr. Bell, he hasn’t come here. We weren’t even expecting him. Why?” Clara was asking on the phone.

 

“Ugh, the two of you are just the most romantic couple I’ve ever encountered.” Deena sighed in jealousy.

 

“I wish I could’ve met you earlier. I would’ve loved to have seen your wedding!” Mary added. Eponine blushed even more.

 

“Eponine!” Clara called with growing concern. She picked up the telephone and handed the stand and the ear piece to Eponine who took it with worry.

 

“Hello?” She asked.

 

_“Mrs. Combeferre, it’s Bell. I fear we may have encountered the scenario I wasn’t hoping for.”_

 

“What’s going on? Where’s my husband?!” Eponine asked, her voice growing with alarm.

 

_“I do not mean to upset you, Madame. We are working as hard as we can…”_

“STOP BEATING ABOUT THE BUSH AND TELL ME WHERE HE IS!” Eponine exploded as she stood up.

 

_“Mrs. Combeferre, I need you to relax…”_

_  
_ “NO! I WILL NOT RELAX! I’ve been sent away for the sake of _MY_ safety, and now I get a telephone call telling me something has happened to my husband?! Where is he?!” Eponine demanded. The whole room fell silent.

 

Julien, Jean, and Gavroche entered the room after hearing the screams.

 

_“Mrs. Combeferre, we have in our office a young lad who says he worked with your husband. He claims the two of them were ambushed outside of Western Union, and the lad was knocked out. When he came to, he reported your husband was nowhere to be seen.”_

Eponine dropped the telephone, and fell back in her chair. Clara immediately rushed over to her. Deena grabbed the phone.

 

_“Hello? Mrs. Combeferre?”_

 

“Mrs. Combeferre has gone into shock, Mr. Bell. What does the Van Dorn D.A. know so far?” Deena asked.

 

 _“We have gathered enough evidence to assume that this is indeed an organized attack conducted by a small gang who were disgraced from the_ Californian _incident. And we suspect they have been hired by someone to go specifically after Mr. Combeferre. After yesterday, I thought perhaps he snuck to the train station to meet with his wife, that’s why I called.”_

Deena looked over at Eponine who held her face in her hands. Gavroche ran over to hug his big sister. Deena returned to the phone.

 

“We are catching the first available train we can get our hands on!”

 

_“Out of the question, Miss Carson! The area is now labelled dangerous. They could be anywhere in the vicinity of Cape May. We can’t risk Mrs. Combeferre endangering herself and her unborn child.”_

“We’re all coming. Myself, Miss Musichetta, Lesgles and Prouvaire, Miss DuFontaine and Eponine and Gavroche. You’ll need all the help you can get. Don’t you dare turn us down because we’re women. Or should I send for Miss Cornelia Enjolras and have her give you a piece of her mind?”

 

Deena read about the Washington D.C. incident. She knew Miss Enjolras was strong-minded.

 

_“That won’t be necessary, Miss Carson. But let us send some Van Dorns up to you to provide escort first.”_

“That’s fine. Eponine needs to recover from the shock anyway.”

 

 _“Fine. We will stay in touch_.”

 

Deena hung up.

 

“I’ve read about the Suffragette movement in Washington. Do you think we should send for them too?” Mary asked. “The ringleaders include a couple of men who risked their lives to make demands met. They could be resourceful.”

 

“Yes, I remember reading their names. The two men were survivors as well. If this vicious gang is motivated, we’ll need backup that is motivated too.”

 

Clara thought about that for a few moments, before making the decision. “Alright. Ask if they can come to Cape May with all due haste!”

 

 

 

**Cape May, NJ**

 

“Perfect!” Bell said as he slammed the receiver onto the clamp of the phone. “Just Perfect!”

 

“We are on the verge of catching these thugs and what happens?! Two of our Van Dorns are dead, and now Combeferre has been spirited away and we still have no idea why!” Bell paced back and forth.

 

“The lad has told us everything he knows.” Abbott reminded Bell, referring to Peter, who was sitting in the corner with an ice pack to his head.

 

“I know. Is Cape May on lockdown yet?” Bell asked.

 

“All of the Van Dorns we could get our hands on have secured the town. The only roads out of Cape May are heavily guarded. Nobody goes in. Nobody goes out.”

 

Bell mumbled. “We’ll have to grant access to Mrs. Combeferre and her party. I’d prefer not to, but then again she’ll have our heads on a pike.”

 

Just then the telephone rang once more. Bell picked it up. “Bell here. Go ahead…what?! Are you…this getting out of…” He was becoming more agitated with each interruption. “Do you all understand what you are getting yourselves into? Fine. But when everyone is down here, you will all do what I say with no hesitation! Is that clear? Good!” Bell hung up the phone.

 

“What was that all about?” Abbott asked.

 

“Miss Carson. They’ve wired this Suffragette group in Washington. They’re recruiting the women into harm’s way.”

 

Abbott sighed. “Isaac. This case, has been trying on all of us. Not to say our other cases haven’t been difficult, but I believe we here at the Van Dorn Detective Agency will simply have to concede that we will need all the help we can get.”

 

Bell knew Abbott was right.

 

 

 

 

**OCTOBER 27 th 1912**

**20 th Century Express Bound for South New Jersey**

Clara walked down the hallway of the sleeping car, when she arrived at Eponine’s compartment. As she predicted, she found the latter hugging a pillow tight, with tears ruining her makeup. Clara motioned for Mary to leave the compartment, as her turn for comforting Eponine was over.

 

“Eponine, my dear. You have to eat something. If not for you, at least for your child.” Clara said.

 

“Who are you trying to fool, Clara? If I so much as look food, I’ll end up expelling it from my insides…”

 

Clara sighed. She took the seat next to Eponine’s bunk bed. “I know how trying this must be…”

 

“No you don’t. Do not dare to give me that horse shit!” Eponine interrupted. “Forgive my bluntness, but you don’t understand it quite the way you’d imagine! Was it painful when you believed Julien was dead? I’m sure it was. But at least until the time you discovered he was alive instead, you knew for certain he was gone. My darling Franklin is missing! There’s no telling where he could be! He could be dead, or seriously hurt, and none of us have a damned clue as to what could’ve happened to him! And do not tell me to get some rest. Every time I so much as close my eyes, I see them.”

 

“See what, dear?” Clara asked.

 

“The ghosts…”

 

 

**THE PREVIOUS NIGHT**

Eponine settled down for the night. She was given chamomile tea to help her get to sleep easier. She asked for a spare pillow, so she could at least imagine she was holding onto Frank.

 

It took her a few minutes to actually fall asleep…when it happened.

 

_Eponine found herself back home. She felt a young hand tug her skirt, and she saw it was her child, reaching to be picked up. After collecting her child, she hurried inside._

_When she entered the house, she called out for Franklin. But there was silence._

_She walked into the parlor. Nowhere was Frank to be seen._

_Eponine hurried upstairs to her bedroom. She opened the door hoping to at least see Franklin asleep in their bed._

_She opened the door to find her Third Class stateroom. And there was her sister Azelma and her parents, and Feuilly._

_“Nice to see you’ve finished grieving for your dead loved ones!” Her mother said, glaring at Eponine._

_“Mother? I’ve never stopped grieving…”_

_“Well it certainly looks that way!” Her father spat out. “And it seems that you had gotten with child, and became a wife in that order!”_

_“Father no! You and mother gave me your blessing!” Eponine protested, fighting back tears._

_“Well now we know where your priority stood. Did you even notice that Feuilly and I were gone?! No. We were flattened to a pulp and you were too busy saving your Billy Boy of an English Cur!” Azelma bellowed._

_“Azelma, none of us knew what happened to you and Feuilly! The wave knocked us all out of proportion! We became separated from Gavroche even!”_

_“Why don’t you just save us your little justifications!” Feuilly added. “Life with that Combeferre bastard has been a living hell ever since you landed in New York. Now that you’re coming back, they’ll be waiting. They’re waiting to get you. And everyone else you love, until there’s no one left!”_

_“No…NO!” Eponine pleaded._

And that’s when Eponine woke up to Mary shaking her…

 

 

**PRESENT TIME**

“And now at last…I understood why Franklin was so distraught whenever I awoke him from his night terrors…it’s the ghosts of those that went down with the _Titanic_.” Eponine said softly.

 

Clara could see that her eyes were dried out, and that she appeared to look emotionally drained.

 

“And every time he awoke from this hell…I’d be there to hold him close…And now that he’s gone…I can’t fall back to sleep.”

 

Eponine opened up her window to look outside. “Where is he?” She asked quietly, her voice cracking.

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Frank began to regain consciousness. His head was pounding a storm…he couldn’t feel his glasses on his head. Everything was a blur to him.

 

There was a large bruise on his head. Two gashes were on his cheeks. He could feel the pain of one black eye. His coat was gone. All he had on was his white buttoned-down shirt and black pants. The white shirt was covered in wet maroon spots…

 

That was when he heard a door creaking open, and shortly slammed shut.

 

“Well well well…it’s good to finally see you awake. Torturing you wasn’t as fun when you were knocked out.” A voice emerged from the darkness.

 

“Who…who’s that?” Frank mumbled, his lip bleeding.

 

“Why…dear young Franklin…you mean to tell me you don’t recognize me? I find that quite insulting!” Frank heard the voice say, before being slapped so hard he swore he’d pass out from the pain.

 

“Wh—Why are you doing this?!” Frank pleaded.

 

“Perhaps I should be the one to ask the questions?” The voice said before slapping Frank’s other cheek.

 

“Why are you here, Franklin Combeferre? Why did you come into this world?! Why couldn’t mother and father be happy with only me?!”

 

That’s when Frank’s heart dropped. “You?!?!” there was fear in his voice.

 

“Ah…so at long last, you recognize your dear old brother.” The voice…Andrew Combeferre said.

 

“What do you want from me?!” Frank pleaded again.

 

“When you were born, you took away so much from me. So…I intend to return the favor!”

 

“What are you talking about?!”

 

“Haven’t you figured it out?! Before you came along, our parents had everything planned out for me! I was supposed to go to that school in Ireland. Perhaps then, I could’ve been the one to have your wife. She’s certainly an Irish beauty that’s for sure!”

 

Frank lost thoughts of fear for a moment. “If you so much as touch her, Andrew I swear on everything that is holy I will…”

 

“You’ll what? You’ll take everything away from me just like before?!” Andrew bellowed.

 

“Ever since you were born, it’s as if Mother and Father had forgotten all about me.”

 

“Andrew…” Franklin said before spitting out a little blood. “It’s natural for older siblings to feel neglected…”

 

“Oh don’t play the fool with me, Franklin. When you were born, Mother and Father looked so much happier than they did with me. You don’t think I hear them at night, claiming that _I_ was the accident?! They always used to boast about you but never about me! They said you were born lucky, and I was just lucky to be born.

 

“Everything they had built up for…everything they planned and saved for…everything that was supposed to go to me, was all suddenly changed to be handed over to you!”

 

Andrew leaned in close so Frank could see clearly the danger in his face.

 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to have everything taken away from you for no damned good reason?”

 

Franklin looked at Andrew as clearly as his poor eyesight would allow him. “Andrew…”

 

“No. You do not get to try and save yourself now, Franklin. Nothing you say can save you now!”

 

Frank could hear Andrew walking away. “What the hell will you do to me?!” he asked.

 

Andrew simply smiled and said “Fear is the deadliest of weapons. I’ll leave you alone to ponder your fate!”

 

Frank could hear the loud clank of chains as the door slammed shut. All he had left were his thoughts…

 

_And now I’m all alone again…nowhere to turn; no one to go to._

_Without a home, without a friend, without a face to say hello to._

_And now the night is near…now I can make believe she’s here._

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Eponine closes the door behind her as she strolls the empty hallway, at long last she can be alone with her thoughts…

_Sometimes I walk alone at night, when everybody else is sleeping…_

_I think of him and then I’m happy with the company I’m keeping…_

_Now they’ve all gone to bed, and I can live inside my head…_

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Combeferre could’ve sworn he heard a soft voice. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. God knows his hallucinations have done enough damage to him by now…

 

_On my own…pretending she’s beside me._

_All alone, I walk with her ‘til morning…_

_Without her, I feel her arms around me._

_And when I lost my way I close my eyes, and she has found me…_

But he knew he couldn’t even wrap his arms around himself. He was bound to the chair tight.

 

 

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Eponine leaned against a window.

 

_In the rain, the windows shine like silver…_

_All the lights are misty in the river._

_In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight,_

_And all I see is him and me forever and forever…_

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

_I Love her. But when the night is over…_

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

_He is gone…the river’s just a river._

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

_Without her, the world around me changes…_

_The walls are bare, and everywhere the fog is full of strangers._

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

_I love him! And every day I’m learning…_

_All these years, I’ve only been pretending…_

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

_Without me, her/his world would’ve gone turning…_

_A world that’s full of happiness that I could never know!_

_I love him…_

_I love her…_

_I love you…_

Eponine leaned her cheek hard against the cold window, her tears racing the raindrops on the opposite side.

 

Combeferre lowered his head, and let the tears fall down his cheeks and sting the cuts he received.

 

For no pain he would sustain, could be worse than to never see his love again…

 

 

 

 

 

**A/N HOLY SH*T Sorry if this one seemed rushed! As I said I’m not good at creating conflicts but I do hope I made a good cliffhanger this time! And I hope the change in _On My Own_ lyrics hit you guys right in the feels. Are you guys enjoying this story? I hope to resolve everything soon! Thank you for your patience!**

 


	10. Chapter 10

**OCTOBER 30** **th** **, 1912**

**Bell's Headquarters**

**Cape May, NJ**

"Now I want to make myself exceptionally clear to all of you." Bell sternly addressed everyone in the room.

They included Prouvaire, Lesgles, Clara, Mary, Eponine, Gavroche, the Carsons, Grantaire, Cornelia and the Pontmercys.

The last four rushed up to New Jersey as soon as they heard of the emergency involving a _Titanic_ survivor. Marius knew that his old friend Margaret Brown would lead the charge to do what's right, so he decided he would do the same.

And as for Cornelia, she was overwhelmed with emotion as this was her brother's best friend whose life was in danger. James would've done the same for her friends…how she wished he was here…

"The lot of you have put yourselves in far more danger than you might be comprehending at the moment. We are dealing with a gang of the most violent nature. Not only are they violent, but they are motivated. Each of you are a link to their motive. They are crewmembers of the _Californian_ , shunned by the world because their ship did not respond to _Titanic_ 's distress call.

"But more importantly…" Bell continued. "They are motivated, and under the pay by a shadow, whom we may believe to be Mr. Combeferre's older brother, Andrew. There is no telling what this man is capable of. But the longer we wait and dilly dally, the better chances are that something bad will happen to Frank. So if you are all going to stay, you have to follow my orders no matter what!"

The group all nodded silently.

"Now, the women will stay with Miss Carson in her home, guarded by ten Van Dorns. The men will follow Abbott and myself throughout the streets of Cape May. Thanks to our young friend, Mr. Gervais" Bell motioned to Peter. "We have found leads as to where Frank may be held."

"Are you sure the _Californian_ gang won't be able to slip past your patrols and out of Cape May, sir?" Prouvaire asked.

"Cape May is a peninsula. We have several Van Dorn gunboats patrolling the entire perimeter. The _Californian_ s would be too stupid to try and make an escape via the ocean. Their only means of escape are that by the two bridges between Spicer's Creek and St. Mary's Cemetery. We have the whole location garrisoned. Our moment to strike is close."

Julien and Jean looked at each other, then stood up. "We're ready when you are sir. He's our friend and we have to look out for each other."

"If Mrs. Brown were here…" Marius noted. "She would have the whole of Cape May turned upside down, and these thugs hung up on any tree within sight."

"These crooks are fighting in the name of corruption." Grantaire said. "Before all of this, I used to believe nothing could be done to end it. And now after all I've seen and learned, I feel this is my destiny. To put an end to this nightmare."

Cornelia couldn't help her smile.

"All right. Let's go." Bell ordered. Each man was given two revolvers equipped with holsters after having been deputized by Bell.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

When Bell and the others were heading out the door, Julien turned to Clara and pulled her to the side.

"Dearest…I do not know how dangerous these men are…there is the possibility that I may not return."

Clara held Julien's hands tightly as he spoke.

"But if I do…I want…I wish for…"

"What?" Clara asked.

"I want you to marry me." Julien blurted out. Clara blushed and silently nodded. She grabbed Julien's neck and kissed him tenderly before he had to pull away and exit the door.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Franklin awoke to cold water splashing in his face.

"Time to go, little brother!" Andrew's voice rang out menacingly.

"Wha…what's going on?"

"Seems like your little friends are on their way to save your sorry little ass." Andrew spat as he was untying Combeferre from his chair.

"How do you know?!"

"Not that it matters. They won't even think to look anywhere near the spot where YOU'LL be going!"

Andrew yanked Franklin out of his chair. "How were you able to find me though?" Frank demanded.

He could hear a menacing chuckle from his brother. "Ah, Franklin…if only you informed your naïve little intern of how you felt about me…"

Frank's heart dropped. "Peter told you!?"

"Now don't get me wrong, dear brother, he never intended to betray you. He only wanted what was best for you. You see, persuasiveness can be quite a beautiful thing."

Andrew shoved open the door, and pushed Frank through.

"If you had ever mentioned to your dear little Peter that you would wish never to see me again as long as you lived, he would've tried to prevent me from getting to you."

Franklin nearly stumbled over the pavement. Without his glasses, he was once again in a world of fog…

"What about your band of mercenaries? If you hired them to only come after me…?"

"Ah well…I'm afraid the crew of the _Californian_ has played their job a little too well. After their first couple of murders I discovered that they were simply _too_ motivated. Why do you think that I've sent them off to intercept your friends?"

Frank shuttered. "You wouldn't! Please! Do what you want with me, but please leave them alone! They've been through enough!"

Andrew laughed. "They haven't even _begun_ to go through enough."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Bell, Marius, Prouvaire, Grantaire, Julien, Abbott, and Jack marched through the streets of Cape May.

Bell had directed groups of five Van Dorns to search the side streets.

The citizens of Cape May have been alerted to the emergency. Nobody budged from their houses.

The seven men turned a corner onto Washington Street, when they stopped in their tracks.

Standing in the middle of the street, were Brujon, Babet, Claqseous, and Gueulemer, armed and dangerous.

There were small trees planted in brick foundations everywhere on this street.

Jack nudged Bell on the shoulder. "That's them. Those are the bastards that nearly did me in!"

"Stand your ground." Bell quietly ordered his group. He then took two confident steps forward, and revealed his badge. "Van Dorn Detective Agency. We have the entire vicinity surrounded and on lockdown. Throw down your weapons, and mercy may be granted."

The four thugs looked at each other.

"You think we are stupid?" Claqseous challenged. "You'll give each of us the chair!"

"I can promise you, you'll be given a fair trial!" Bell negotiated.

"That right there is a load of horse shit!" Gueulemer bellowed. "We were promised a fair trial at the _Titanic_ inquiry, and look what happened there. All four of us shunned from the world for the rest of our miserable lives!"

"If your ship was within a visible distance from ours…" Marius asked. "Why did you not come to save us?!"

"Like we had any control over where our ship goes?! If you're looking to blame someone, blame our damned Captain. He was asleep when he could've given us orders. We've only done our duties." Brujon said.

"If your duties include standing by and letting hundreds of people drown…the four of you have a sorry life indeed!" Grantaire said.

"If we had any idea you wretched survivors would've given us so much trouble, we would've burned down the building that held the damned inquiry!" Babet pointed at the survivors.

"The evidence is piling up against your case, gentlemen. Threats of arson and murder, charges of aggravated assaults, and first degree murder. It's all not looking good for any of you." Bell demanded. "But you will still be given a fair and equal trial, if you throw down your weapons and surrender."

"We were fucking branded from the start." Claqseous said, his hand close to his holstered weapon. "Even if we never committed any of those deeds, we still would've been labeled as criminals for what happened that night. There's no way out of this."

Bell lowered his hand to his men as a signal for them to have their weapons ready.

"For the last time, throw down your weapons and come quietly."

The next few moments were a blur…

In Grantaire's mind, he knew only one thing; these four men were dangerous. If he was to allow them to surrender and be imprisoned…they would only find a way to escape, and cause more terror and bloodshed. Either that, or they would find a way to bribe a corrupt policeman or judge to _allow_ them to escape prison. One way, or another, if these men were allowed to live, it would only mean that they would only continue to kill and maim and cause pure hell…

…until there were no more survivors left.

This was the moment Grantaire made his decision. He was not going to take the chance of a fair trial. The chance of acquittal was still there.

He wanted to just take out his revolver and shoot them all in one fell swoop. But that would make him no less of a criminal than the four standing in front of him. So he decided to add a little bit of influence.

His hand that was closest to his revolver's holster was a few inches away. In one fluid moment, he jerked his hand closer to the holster, but did not take the revolver out.

The bluff was bought, and the four men panicked and grabbed their guns.

Bell and his men did the same.

Brujon pulled his trigger first.

His bullet struck Marius in his left arm, causing the latter to drop his pistol and clutch his arm in pain.

"Take cover!" Bell ordered. All of them dodged for brick foundations.

Abbott and Bell aimed their revolvers and fired multiple times at Brujon and Babet.

The two thugs stumbled backwards after being hit in their torsos.

"Carson! Lesgles! Go!" Bell shouted.

Jack and Julien took their signal to dodge the gunfire and sprinted to a side street.

Bell anticipated a shootout, and had planned for at least two of his men to split from the group and flank the thugs.

Abbott took his pistol and fired at Babet before the ladder could get a chance to stand up. Babet was hit in his left eye.

Gueulemer aimed his pistol and fired…causing Prouvaire to fall to the ground after being hit in the shoulder.

Brujon crawled to Babet to get him to stand up. Babet was dead.

That's when he picked up both his and Babet's guns and fired violently at the Van Dorns.

Grantaire was only able to get two shots in before he felt Brujon's bullet pierce him square in the stomach.

Marius was kneeling behind cover when he saw Grantaire collapse to his knees. "Grantaire!" he cried as he tried to get to him.

Bell grabbed Marius by the shoulder. "Take cover, damn it!"

Grantaire clutched his stomach with one hand…while he held his pistol in the other. When he saw Brujon pull both of his triggers to the sounds of clicking, Grantaire raised his pistol and fired at Brujon, grazing him in the neck.

Grantaire's last sight was Brujon falling backwards.

His last thought was that of Cornelia.

"I believe in you, Enjolras…" he muttered, spitting up blood before at long last, falling forward to the ground…

Prouvaire took cover behind a second brick foundation, and suppressed fire against Gueulemer and Claqseous.

When Gueulemer heard the clicking coming from Prouvaire's gun, he raised his pistol up and aimed it at him. "Got you now, you son of a bitch!" he bellowed.

No sooner had he said this, then he was struck on the side of his head by a bullet from Jack.

Gueulemer was dead before he collapsed to the ground.

Jack and Julien sprinted for Claqseous, their guns aimed at him.

Bell and Abbott ran forwards too. And the four of them surrounded the last thug as if they were the four points of a compass.

"Give it up you bastard! Where is our friend?!" Jack demanded.

"Go ahead. Shoot me now. It won't make a difference." Claqseous taunted.

Julien responded by shooting Claqseous in the ankle, causing the latter to collapse.

Bell took his personal derringer that he keeps in his boot and jammed it in Claqseous's head.

"You see your friend?" Bell pointed to Brujon, who was convulsing as he was clutching his throat.

"Your fate will be just as slow and agonizing. We will make sure of that. But if you cooperate with us, we can arrange it so that it will be quick and painless."

"You self-righteous bastard…no matter what I still meet the maker."

"That's because you failed to comply when we gave you men the chance. Now I am not going to ask you again. Where is he?!" Bell demanded.

Brujon spat out some blood before he struggled to speak.

"Claqseous…don't…don't be a fool…just…tell them…it's over…" Brujon pleaded from a bleeding mouth.

Claqseous watched in a moment of sadness as his shipmate slowly stopped convulsing, and his grip on his throat loosened.

Claqseous was alone now…there was no way out.

"The Pier, you sons-of-bitches. The Boss is taking him to the Pier."

"Jack! Take Julien and get over there quick!" Bell ordered.

Jack and Julien ran off towards the direction of the pier. Abbott for his part, took the butt end of his gun and knocked Claqseous out cold before cuffing him.

Bell slowly walked over to Marius as he was holding Grantaire's body in his arms, next to Prouvaire who was clutching his shoulder.

Bell sighed. "This is what I feared would happen…innocent bloodshed on our hands."

"They came to help, Isaac." Abbott added. "They knew what they were getting into."

"It's true, Mr. Bell." Prouvaire said, struggling to get up. "Combeferre is our friend. We all have a bond. Surely you would understand. Do you not have an obligation to all the men under your agency?"

Bell knew Prouvaire was right. Bell had lost a few good men in the pursuit of duty and justice. Glenn Irvine, Arthur Curtis, Alasdair MacDonald, John Scully, Wish Clarke, Wally Kisley and Mack Fulton. He felt an obligation to them, just as these poor wretches have an obligation to a fellow survivor. They've established a brotherhood…

"Abbott…go and tell the other Van Dorns to follow Lesgles and Carson."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Andrew was dragging Frank to the edge of the pier. Frank could only see a very foggy blue in front of him. When he heard the sounds of the ocean, it all came flooding back to him.

"Sorry Frankie. But the fact is, these friends of yours are getting too dangerous for my liking."

"Andrew…please. You can walk away from this! Please just let me go and leave us alone!"

Franklin could feel the muzzle of a gun pressed against his forehead. "It's not that simple, brother dear! You think if I let you go now, it can erase all the years of neglect that I have received from Mother and Father?! No. And now, they can be reunited with their favorite son."

Andrew shoved Franklin against the railing of the pier. "Does this seem familiar, Franklin?" Andrew taunted.

"I hear the ocean's quite cold around this time of year…why, I swear I could almost see something white and icy looking in the distance!"

Frank didn't know how, but somehow Andrew knew exactly what to say to taunt him.

"And not only your parents that you can reunite with…all of your dear friends will be there too. They get to meet you in the Grand Staircase up in the sky…or perhaps in the opposite direction!"

"Andrew, please…I beg you! I am sorry for everything that's happened! I'm sorry that you were treated this way. I can't change how Mother and Father treated you. But I can do all that I can to make amends. Please…please just give me a chance!"

"I'm sorry, Franklin…but if you wanted to help, you should have never been born!"

And then with one fluid motion, Andrew picked up Frank's feet and flipped him over the railing and into the sea down below.

Frank's mind went black.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

_Oh God…this is it! Eponine! Please…forgive me! Everything that has happened here…is because of me! If we never met again…you wouldn't be in danger…now God knows what he'll do to you, now that I'm a goner…I love you Eponine!_

" _Who's to say you are a goner?" a voice echoed._

Frank could barely hear the voice amidst the bubbles rushing around him underwater…

_What…who are you?_

" _Franklin, it is us…"_ James said.

… _No…NO! Not again!_

" _Have a care, Franklin. We are not here to harm you anymore."_ Feuilly reassured.

_Why have you scorned me so? I didn't mean for any of you to die! I swear!_

" _We never scorned you. We were never there in the first place, Franklin. That was all in your mind!"_ Azelma said, calmly.

" _We have all created a bond on the_ Titanic _…even before the iceberg. We couldn't ever hold a grudge against you even in death. We never would have even if we survived. It's not in our spirits."_ Courfeyrac added.

" _Do we miss our friends? Terribly! And we all can see how badly they miss us. But look at all of you now. You have lives ahead of you! And you have a little one along the way. You must all look towards the future."_ Joly said.

Frank's mind was beginning to form subjects…the images of the Ghosts all there. There he could see James, Feuilly, Azelma, Courfeyrac, Joly, Grantaire, Bahorel…

They all seemed to be…smiling at him. And it didn't seem to frighten him at all.

" _Have faith…and all will be well."_ James said.

Then out of nowhere, Frank heard a loud splash from above…

**THIRTY SECONDS EARLIER**

Just as Andrew had shoved Franklin over the rail, Jack and Julien ran forward. They stopped in front of a set of benches, leaving nothing in between them and Andrew.

Andrew positioned his gun at Jack.

"Andrew Combeferre!" Jack shouted.

"Ah…have we met?" Andrew asked sarcastically.

"You psychopathic bastard!" Julien bellowed, ready to fire his gun. Jack stopped Julien from moving any further.

"It's over…Andrew. You won."

"What?!" Julien objected.

"Franklin is as good as dead. You've finally gotten what you wanted." Jack said, raising his hands up in the air. "But now there is nowhere to run. The Van Dorns will promise you a fair trial. But most likely you will be found guilty…

"Unless…" Jack prodded.

"Unless what!" Andrew said, still pointing his gun at Jack.

"Unless if you come quietly, and plead insanity to the court, perhaps you will be provided with psychological treatment in one of our sanatoriums."

"Jack what are you…"

"Quiet, Julien!" Jack muttered.

Andrew kept his glare at Jack. "The only way I am surrendering, is if you two throw down your guns first!"

"You think we can trust you, you maniac?!" Julien challenged.

"Julien, please!" Jack said. "Alright, Andrew. You win. We will both lower our guns, slowly, and gently…"

Jack beckoned for Julien to lower to his knees, and to toss their guns on the boardwalk.

Jack then motioned for Julien to crouch down and go prone.

Andrew looked at Jack confused…before Jack said "I'm sorry."

And before Andrew could comprehend what Jack could be sorry about, five Van Dorn agents jumped up from behind the benches and aimed their guns.

Andrew had just enough time to raise his pistol before being riddled with bullets…

No sooner had Andrew at long last collapsed to the ground, had Julien sprint past him and leap over the railing, to dive in after Franklin.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Bell and Abbott ran towards the beach just below the pier. They sent three Van Dorns to scout the area below.

"Bell!" Jack shouted from above. "It's over. We got him."

Bell lowered his pistol. "And Franklin?" he asked.

It was then that he saw a pair of floating heads in the water…

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

" _Just have faith, and all will be well…"_ James said.

Then, as soon as Combeferre heard the splash, he swore he could see the spirits of his lost ones pushing him towards the source of the splash…right into Julien's arms.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Julien laid down Franklin on the beach. Bell knelt down beside him, and exhaled a sigh of relief. "He's still breathing…thank God!"

"Abbott. Go back to the Carson residence, and go tell them we've found Combeferre, and that he's alive!" Bell said.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

**Carson Residence**

Clara was pacing the floor. Cosette was comforting Eponine, while Gavroche was scribbling away on his sketchpad.

Cornelia heard the doorbell rang, and walked with Deena to answer it.

Abbott entered the room.

All of the women stood up except for Eponine because they have been strict with her not to excite herself anymore in her condition.

Abbott took a deep breath and exhaled "We have found Mr. Combeferre, and he is alive."

Eponine covered her mouth as she began to let her tears fall. Gavroche walked over to comfort his big sister.

"But…" Abbott continued. "We have received casualties in the process…"

"Jean Prouvaire has been mildly wounded in the shoulder; the bullet only grazed the top. But he is recovering."

Mary exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Marius Pontmercy took a bullet to his left arm. He will need an operation but should pull through." Cosette put her hand over her chest as she exhaled.

"And…Mr. Darcy Grantaire?" Cornelia asked eagerly.

Abbott sighed and looked down and shook his head.

Cornelia lowered her head in silent shock.

"Where is my husband now?" Eponine asked.

"In critical care. I know how eager you are to be reunited with him, but until he recovers he can receive no visitors from anyone. I'm sorry, Mrs. Combeferre."

Everyone else in the room was expecting Eponine to throw a fit and demand to be taken to see her husband…

…but surprisingly, she looked up at Abbott and softly said. "Thank you."

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

**The Hospital**

Franklin opened his eyes. He couldn't tell where he was, since he still had no glasses.

"Hello?" He called out. "Anyone there?"

He heard soft footsteps. "Who's that?" He asked, hesitantly.

"It's me…Mr. Combeferre…" Peter's shaken voice said.

Franklin felt a hint of disappointment in his own heart. He was eager to be with Eponine again.

"Where's my wife?" he asked.

"She's safe, sir."

"And…"

"I'm sorry sir. He was surrounded by the police and shot dead." Peter said.

Frank sighed. _Well, at least he can do no more harm to anyone, or himself._ He thought.

"Mr. Combeferre…I need to apologize intensely." Peter said, breaking down. "I had no idea why your brother wanted to see you. If I knew what his intentions were…"

"It's alright, Peter. You didn't know. Your heart was in the right place."

Frank could feel Peter's hand grab his as the latter spoke. "After they attacked us, and I came to, I found these. I think you might need them." He said as he placed Combeferre's glasses in his hands.

Combeferre exhaled in relief as he put his glasses on. His eyes hurt a little from the drastic change of vision, but he did not care.

"Mr. Combeferre?" A voice called out.

Frank turned to see Mr. Bell enter the room.

"Mr. Bell…is everything alright now?" Frank asked.

"As alright as it will ever be. Just came by to see how you were doing. I assume that…Mr. Gervais has told you…"

"Yes."

"I see…and how are you sitting now with this since it was your brother we were dealing with?"

Combeferre huffed softly. "I wouldn't know. He never acted like a brother…I just wish things could've worked out differently. What matters now is my wife. How is she?"

"Safe and sound, Mr. Combeferre. When she heard that you were abducted, she came straight here. We tried to stop her but she was insistent…"

"Normally, I would be upset that she went against my judgement and put herself and child in danger…" Frank began. "But right now, I just want to see her again."

Bell smiled. "We'll see what the doctor has to say about your physical and mental state, and you'll be good to go!"

Frank reached for Isaac's hand. "Mr. Bell, how can I ever repay you?"

"No need. It's a part of my job." Bell shook Frank's hand.

**NOVEMBER 2** **nd** **, 1912**

**Carson Residence**

**Cape May, NJ**

Marion was sitting on the couch with Eponine having tea.

"So, Mrs. Combeferre. Have you ever considered becoming a silent screen actress?" Marion asked.

"Um…I'm not entirely sure I know what you're talking about, Miss Morgan." Eponine said, confused.

"Oh please! Call me Marion! And you haven't heard about moving pictures?"

"I'm afraid I have never seen them. I've heard talk about them but I don't really understand what they are."

"Oh, I am sure you would love it. It's one of the latest achievements in progress! You've seen photographs I'm sure?"

"Of course!" Eponine said.

"Well, imagine if you will, a person inside this little box. Instead of it being a still, motionless picture, the person would be moving!"

Eponine was eye-wide. "Like, they were inside the box?!"

"Not quite literally of course! It's rather too technical to explain. But have you ever posed for a picture before?"

"Well…no, not really…except for the wedding photo of me and my husband!"

"Ah yes! Well, imagine a machine, that would be able to show you and your husband not standing in one place, but moving towards your honeymoon car!"

Eponine was amazed. "Wow…" she said. "Can I ask why you want to know my experience with such things?"

"Because I am a moving pictures director, and I was so hoping that perhaps you would be interested in starring in one of my next productions?"

"Whoa…" Eponine was bewildered. "I'm highly honored, Marion. But I'm afraid I might have to decline. You see…" She said, motioning to her pregnant belly.

Marion smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I can wait!"

Eponine giggled, when the front door opened. Her face turned abruptly to the front entrance.

There he was.

And before Eponine could even inch forward to stand up, Frank hustled over and picked her up and kissed her passionately.

"Oh God…Frank! I thought something happened to you!" And then she hit him on the arm. "If you ever give me a scare like that again, I will kill you!"

Frank responded by holding her tight. "I'm so glad to have you back!" He cried.


	11. Chapter 11

**DECEMBER 31** **st** **, 1912**

**Hospital, Cape May, NJ**

Combeferre was pacing back and forth. He was in the waiting room along with Prouvaire, his new fiancée Mary, Julien, Gavroche and the Carsons.

"Franklin, can you please sit down? You're making me dizzy!" Deena commented.

"I can't! If I sit down, I'll cradle back and forth!"

"Put it this way…" Julien said. "Sooner or later you'll have a good reason to cradle back and forth."

"Oh man! It's One minute to midnight!" Jean exclaimed, looking at his new pocket-watch that Mary's parents gave to him as an engagement present.

"Jean, don't you believe there are more matters to attend to…" Frank began.

That was the moment they heard hurried footsteps coming from the hallway.

"Excuse me, Mr. Combeferre? But Mrs. Lesgles has asked for you!"

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Combeferre nearly knocked down two doctors on his way to Eponine's room. There she could see Clara Lesgles holding onto Eponine's hand tight.

"How is she doing?" Frank asked.

"I'm right here you ninny!" Eponine yelped. Clara wiped the sweat off of Eponine's forehead with a wet wash cloth. "And I feel like I can rip someone's head off right now!"

"Just a few more pushes, Eponine!" Clara said calmly.

Within the next push, Eponine grabbed Frank by the collar of his shirt and glared at him straight in the eye.

"The next time we have a baby, it better not be as dramatic a pregnancy at this one, or so help me I will have Gavroche make your death look like an accident!"

Franklin couldn't help his killer smile. "I love you too!"

Eponine yelped louder than before. "JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH, FRANK! STOP SMILING, DAMN YOU! THAT'S WHAT STARTED ALL OF THIS!"

Frank would've laughed if Eponine hadn't placed her grip on his throat.

"Fifteen seconds to midnight!" Prouvaire's voice could be heard from the hallway.

"I can see the head!" Clara announced.

Frank kissed Eponine's forehead. "This is it! The moment's coming!"

"Ten seconds!"

"Two more pushes, you can do it!"

"Six! Five!"

"I swear to fecking God, any louder and I'll lunge after him myself!" Eponine blurted out.

"Two! One!"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

"It's a boy!" Clara cried out.

**JANUARY 1** **st** **, 1913**

Amidst the heavy breathing, Eponine was laughing uncontrollably.

"Are you alright, love?" Combeferre asked.

"Never better…" she smiled at him while heaving. "Couldn't have asked for a better suited man to share this with."

"Neither could I. I never thought this moment could happen. You…and I…we're actually…parents! We're parents of a beautiful healthy young boy. I can't think of a more special single moment."

"Plural…" Eponine said softly.

"Well, of course. The day I married you counts as equally as this but…" Frank stopped. His heart leapt into his throat. "Wait…what?"

Eponine smiled at him. "Show him, Clara."

Clara responded by going behind the curtain, and returning with another little bundle similar to the one the nurse was holding.

Combeferre nearly fainted. "Twins?!" Frank looked at his beautiful wife. "Did you know?"

Eponine shrugged her shoulders and said "Merry belated Christmas."

"Veronica, and Alan." Clara declared.

Combeferre's smile widened as he kissed Eponine like he's never kissed her before.

"Hey!" Clara said sternly. "None of that now! She'll need her rest before she can go through THAT again!"

Eponine and Combeferre blushed in perfect synchronization.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

The drawings, sketches, and paintings Grantaire made, became very popular after his death in the Washington St. Shootout. Cornelia over saw the biddings of all of his work at the top art auctions in America.

Cornelia continued her campaign to obtain the Rights of Women. In 1920, the Nineteenth Amendment had passed, allowing all United States citizens the right to vote regardless of sex. She then spent her time demonstrating rallies to support Prohibition. She eventually married a U.S. State Senator in 1934, and had two children. Cornelia passed away in 1955 to natural causes. Her name is remembered in the list of heroic Women Suffragettes.

Marius and Cosette Pontmercy donated their beloved home in Washington D.C. to the _Titanic_ Survivors Relief Committee. They remained in touch with Margaret Brown, and continued to perform charity events to help survivors, up until her death in 1932. Afterwards, she became known as "The Unsinkable Molly Brown", and her heroism inspired a Broadway Musical. They had one daughter who went on to become a charity guru. Marius and Cosette both passed away within a few days apart in 1959.

Jean Prouvaire and Mary DuFontaine had married in 1913. When The Great War broke out, Prouvaire felt his patriotism for France crying out in bloodshed. He joined the war to fight, and came back with a cane with which he would walk for the rest of his life. They had three children, Douglas, Judy, and Thomas. Jean's traumatic neurosis from the war helped inspire him to go back to writing; and his poems turned into best-selling books by the time he passed away in 1962. Mary passed away in 1965.

Jack and Deena Carson had both settled down, gotten married and raised families of their own. Jack's son served in the Korean War and was killed in battle. Unable to cope with his son's loss, Jack took his own life. Deena had succumbed to severe heart problems egged on by the paranoia of World War III, and the fear of nuclear attack.

Julien joined his wife Clara's pursuit in a medical career, and had one daughter named Marilyn. Marilyn went on to become a nurse for the U.S. Military, stationed at Pearl Harbor. Julien and Clara retired after the war, and lived the last days of their lives in France. Marilyn had arranged for a monument to be erected at her parents' gravesite, to commemorate her parents, and her godparents, Jean and Mary, and their lost loved ones, Henri Courfeyrac and Joly Rivera.

Gavroche Thenadier traveled back to Ireland when he turned 18. He survived the sinking of the _Lusitania_. Gavroche went on to raise awareness of the political struggles of Ireland, and became actively involved in the Irish Republican Brotherhood, but luckily was nowhere near the Uprising of 1916. He went on to fight with the British during the Battle of Britain, and was awarded the Victoria Cross for his bravery. He was among the few remaining survivors as of 1986, to witness the re-discovery of the wreck of the _Titanic_ by Dr. Robert Ballard. Gavroche died peacefully in his sleep a year later.

Franklin and Eponine Combeferre ended up having five children; Veronica, Alan, Patrick, James, and Azelma. Eponine, had taken up Marion's offer to star in her "moving pictures" and grew to be a sensational hit. Combeferre's knowledge in Morse Code from his experience at his Western Union post, had earned him attention by the U.S. Military, and he then went on to become a codebreaker for Military Intelligence. When silent pictures died down, Eponine was content. Having a family as she had was more than she could ask for. Having overcome his fear of the ocean, Franklin and Eponine, together with their family, attended the premiere of _A Night to Remember_ , a highly successful docudrama of the sinking of the _Titanic_ in 1958. A part of their story was captured in a tragic climatic scene during the sinking. Franklin passed away in 1968. Eponine committed suicide the next morning, not wanting to spend another minute apart from her husband. The two have been buried at sea, near the spot where _Titanic_ sank.

**August 23, 2016**

**COLONELTRAVIS1836's Home**

"… **near the spot where** _ **Titanic**_ **sank." I finished typing up.**

**After I pressed the last "." I took a moment and breathed heavily. My best friend, who also shared an interest in** _**Les Miserables** _ **and** _**Titanic** _ **, looked over my shoulder, and seemed disappointed.**

" **It's funny." She said. "After all of this build-up, it seems rather anti-climatic that you end it like this."**

**I smiled at her and asked "Who said anything about that being the end?"**


End file.
